


The Runaway Groom

by TheReluctantBlue



Category: Bastille (Band), Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Pining, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReluctantBlue/pseuds/TheReluctantBlue
Summary: "Drive the car.""Wait, who the hell are you?""Satan. Now DRIVE!"Dallon bringing home a stray puppy in his apartment already got him scolded by his landlord. Bringing home a runaway groom from God knows where is something he'd get killed for.





	1. Prologue

Brendon is running. He's running for his life.

It doesn't help when your caretakers and security guards are looking everywhere for you after escaping your own wedding.

Well, hey. It happens in books, right?

That's how Brendon finds himself running from the church, hiding behind a dumpster in a dark alleyway. Never mind that the dumpster is absolutely foul. He needs to hide and get away as far as possible.

Calls of _'Sir Brendon!"_ reach his ears, and he just knows his mother might have fainted somewhere right now. Sorry, Mom.

When the rushing foot steps cease and went away to search to a different location, he slid off from his hiding place, checking his surroundings just to see if the coast is clear.

It was a desperate attempt, really. Defying his parents' wishes to be wed to Sarah Orzechowski, and just running away from a suffocating lifestyle where he has to please everyone. He felt restricted with his actions and with what he always wanted to do.

Brendon never asked for this life.

He only has one getaway and he's looking at it right now.

A tall brunette is putting away his bag of groceries in the trunk of his silver car, in which he failed to notice Brendon hovering close, waiting for the right time to jump on him.

That sounded wrong.

The moment the man enters the driver seat is the moment Brendon yanked the passenger seat open and forced himself inside the car.

"Drive the car." He orders the driver, who's taking sweet time on staring at him incredulously.

"Wait, who the hell are you?" Suspicion is inevitable from the brunette. For all this man knows, Brendon might be a serial killer who is escaping from the authorities.

Might as well play the part.

"Satan. Now **DRIVE**!" He threatens. The taller man makes an almost inaudible squeak as his starts the car and drives them off to who knows where.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is something I started on Wattpad months ago while I was in the process of doing Little Giraffe. I'm posting it here for those who don't use/have Wattpad. I hope you guys like it!


	2. Chapter 2

He lived alone for years. His parents dying at a young age isn't his fault, really. But he think it is.

Dallon Weekes isn't exactly from a well off family. They lived a simple life. A house just right for him and his family. Sometimes they have less than what they're suppose to, but mostly, they just have enough. And that's okay, because his parents taught him to be contented to what they already have.

Bread and soup, a few rice meals, fish, and if his father got a good pay in his salary, they'd cook something special.

His mother taught him all he needed to know about household chores, all the way to laundry and cooking meals for them. If his Mom couldn't cook for them because she's sick, Dallon would take her place while their Dad is away and to help feed his siblings with what they need.

His brother Jordan says he always tries too hard. And maybe he is trying too hard on everything. Even getting A+ on all his subjects makes his brother wonder if he even knows what 'fun' is.

Dallon does, to some extent.

His past time after every chore and studying is playing with the ukulele his father had given him on his birthday.

A little strum, a little practice, and experimenting on the tone, Dallon enjoys playing with it. Usually, his favorite is listening to his father play _"Can't Help Falling In Love"_ , singing the song in a low, soft voice with only a candle to light them in the night before going to sleep.

But then accidents happen, and things will never be the same again.

Death changes a lot of things, it appears.

Jordan and his other siblings now live in his Aunt's care, in which Dallon is thankful for, that they still have someone who would be willing to look out for them. He still keeps in touch through letters and phone calls, but he misses them a lot.

That's how Dallon finds himself in his current situation, living alone in a shady looking apartment in the outskirts of the city. His cost of living only relies on the different sidelines he takes. Construction jobs, carpet cleaning, working in diners and real estates, and now, working part time as a teacher aid in a school just inside the city. With expenses for his family, rent, electricity, water, food and commuting one place to another, it's hard to leave budget for some new clothes or nice looking shoes for himself.

But that's okay. What matters is that he could keep working to keep his family alive.

"Arf arf!" A playful bark calls his attention as he turns to see Zero wagging its tail excitedly at his feet.

"Hey, buddy. Ready for your breakfast?"

"Arf!"

Zero is the only thing Dallon has with him. Even with the risk of his land lord scolding him for adopting the poor dog from the terrible storm, his land lord was kind enough to make an exception despite having a "No Pets" policy as long as Dallon learns to discipline Zero properly. He's proud to say he's been doing a good job. 

His land lord is a nice old lady who asks him errands from time to time if ever his grandson isn't home from the university.

Speaking of errands...

The knocking on the door is right on schedule.

"Good morning, Dallon. Here's the list of today's groceries and the keys to the car." Mrs. Truman greets him with a kind smile.

"Need anything else, Mrs. Truman?"

His land lord retrieves her wallet and pulls out a $100 dollar bill. Which makes Dallon wonder why Mrs. Truman would give such a large amount despite living alone.

"The extra $50 is for your own food to buy, dear."

Dallon was never one to ask anything from others. Let alone be given something with no reason.

"I can't take this, ma'am."

"Nonsense, dear." The old lady says, placing the hundred dollar bill in to his hands. "You've done favors for me and helped me when I needed it. This little gift is the least I've given you compared to all the things that you've done for me."

His land lord ushers him out of the apartment, much to his protest of getting so much money.

While Dallon's life is not much for a lot of people, he doesn't regret having the life he has right now. Sometimes, the little things are the important ones, and he cherishes that.

He could take this grocery shopping with a smile today.

****

He stand corrected. This is not something he asked for.

Dallon is currently driving his land lord's car with a total stranger suddenly barging into the passenger seat. 

Now, in any normal circumstance, Dallon would stop this car right now and call for help with this man being a possible tuxedo-wearing criminal hiding from the authorities. But he knows better that a criminal would not risk wearing such an eye catching outfit used to do a bad deed.

That tuxedo looks expensive too.

The stranger beside him looks young. What are you suppose to do when you have a terribly young, disheveled looking boy in your passenger seat as if he's hiding from someone?

"Are you lost? Do you want me to take you home?" He starts off the discussion, looking straight at the road.

The kid jumps in his seat, looking frightened and anxious. "D-Don't take me home, please. I-I ran away..."

"Ran away? From what?"

That's when Dallon realized. The tuxedo.

He halts the car on the red stop light and turns to the younger man, who's fiddling with the ring on his finger nervously.

**Oh.**

"You ran away from your wedding, didn't you?"

Dallon felt the other man froze from his peripheral vision as he begins to drive off.

He was right.

"I-I don't wanna get married." The kid mumbles, which makes Dallon curious about this tuxedo wearing boy in his passenger seat.

"Okay... But what do you want?"

It's obvious, by the look on the kid's youthful face that he doesn't get asked that question often. Or perhaps never. He knows how society has standards, and the rich always had this urge to impress. Media coverage to celebrity scandals, they expose themselves. Their actions are restricted, and only used to impress the crowd. Totally disregarding the things that a person wants to do.

He wouldn't wish to have this kid's life. But it saddens him to see how this boy experienced it in such a young age.

"I-I... don't know what I want." The stranger admits later as Dallon parks the car in front of his apartment building.

A youthful man such as this person has so much more to live for. How will such a person survive without nothing else to live for? He doesn't deserve that life.

Dallon mentally sighs in defeat. He needs to stop taking strays in when he already has less for himself.

"Are you coming inside, or what?" He calls out to the other man who was just standing there, so unsure of what to do as he stands on the pavement.

The tuxedo-wearing boy rushes inside the building, welcoming himself inside his apartment.

Oh boy.

****

After explaining himself to his land lord when she asked who the mysterious boy was, he barely made it out of that one. 'He's a friend of mine who'll be staying for a while.'

He hates lying.

"This apartment is so small." The kid remarks, as he observes the whole room. "But it's unexpectedly clean though."

"I clean it everyday." Dallon responds as he puts away the food he bought inside his mini fridge.

"Why not let others clean it?"

Cleaning is something people would never find as a fun chore, but Dallon enjoys it, no matter how odd it is for some people. It's a thing his mother taught him that the joy in chores starts with one thing: singing.

"I can't afford something like that." He says instead, which is also true.

The kid hums, flopping down on his old dusty couch. "That sucks."

Dallon stares at the other man for a moment before concluding: "You're rich, aren't you?"

The boy proceeds to lie on the couch, not even bothering to take off his shoes. Rude.

"My dad is a politician. Senator Urie?" He says casually as if it wasn't a big announcement. 

As for Dallon, he is now scared for his life, bringing home the son of a powerful politician into his apartment and the authorities might mistook this situation as a hostage for taking the said son in his crummy old place.

He needs to make this kid leave.

"D-Do you have a place to go to?" Dallon silently prays this kid would leave as soon as possible.

"Well, I have friends I could stay with. But my Dad knows all of my friends. He'll find me there if I decide to stay with them." He turns to Dallon, giving him a smirk. "You'll be glad to know that your place is the last place my Dad would ever search on. So, be honored that you'll be having me for a long time."

Dallon Weekes didn't ask for this life.


	3. Chapter 3

Dallon didn't remember what grave thing he has ever done to deserve this punishment.

Less than a week, this boy--Brendon--he grudgingly reminds himself, has already inhabited his apartment as if he belonged there and has ruined any piece of solitude and serenity he had while he lived alone in peace with Zero.

Perhaps, the kid wasn't kidding when he introduced himself as Satan.

The addition of Brendon in the apartment means more money problems in his already tight budget.

All the kid does is complain. _'It's too hot in here. Why don't you have air-conditioning?', 'You call this food?'_

Brendon's lack of knowledge with household chores could also drive him insane. He lacks propriety and respect. The boy also lacks modesty as he walks around half-naked inside his apartment that would make Mrs. Truman faint at the sight.

Dallon could add that his list.

He's half tempted to call the number on the television he saw yesterday, apparently looking for one Brendon Urie along with a handsome pay to whoever finds him. He wants to call it just to spite the brat.

But he's not that evil; his parents taught him better. He is just gradually losing patience for the boy.

How long will that patience endure? He'll never know.

The only time Dallon could find peace, is when he plays his ukulele. It's a usual past time of his, and playing it drains away all of his tiredness and stress.

With a pen, he writes lyrics of one closely reminiscent to vampires of an old century romance.

 

**_"Vampires never have to complain,_ **

**_Of living a dull circumstance._ **

**_So let's all pretend that we are undead,_ **

**_In turn of the century France."_ **

 

Once he found the lyrics satisfying, he hummed the tune with the strum of his ukulele's strings.

He was almost lost in to playing that he didn't realize Brendon is watching him with fascination. His face is scarce of the commonly placed smug or smirk on his lips. In turn it leaves him with a small, soft smile directed towards him.

"I've heard you play before, but I didn't know you could sing." Brendon remarks, as he drags a chair and placed himself to sit in front of Dallon with a excitement and awe that filled his eyes.

Dallon blinks at him as Brendon stares back expectantly.

"Go on." Brendon urges him with a wave of his hand. "Keep playing. I'll be quiet, I promise."

Dallon huffs, but he couldn't help but smile at the boy's manic excitement. And so, he plays.

This could probably be the first time he's at peace with Brendon's presence. He could feel the other boy's gaze but it doesn't feel intimidating.

He and Brendon are highly different in most aspects. Their personalities clash and their differences are enough to start a fight between them. They're obviously different in their status and way of upbringing. While Brendon lived a decent, well-off lifestyle and he lived in an environment where he only had enough, at some point, he's glad that they have at least one similarity that they could agree on.

And with just that thought, he smiles.

****

He likes Dallon.

Living for almost two weeks with the stoic man in such a rundown apartment made him bet that he's going to have it terrible in his time here.

So far, he's been proven wrong.

For a man who doesn't have enough, he seem to give Brendon more portion of the food than he does for his own. The other man doesn't even sugarcoat his displeasure of Brendon's actions with snark remarks. _'I see you haven't drowned over the sea of clothing that you seem very fond of dropping into my floor.'_

Dallon doesn't treat him like some valuable piece of jewel. While Brendon isn't one for chores, he does so with Dallon's instruction along with the taller man's grumpy disposition. _'I don't believe parents teach their children to make other people's rooms look like it's been a battlefield from World War 2!"_

In the afternoons, Brendon likes to pretend he's busy playing on his phone, when in reality, he listens to Dallon play with his ukulele each day. Even more so when he heard the other man sing with such a lovely voice.

That's recently how he started to bond with the stoic man. He's glad Dallon doesn't mind that he listens. Playing music seems to be his comfort zone, as the lines of Dallon's face seem to glow with delight and peace as the sun weaves through the blinds of his window. It makes him look ethereal that it's enough to take one's breath away.

Brendon could testify to that.

As he gazes at Dallon, he realizes he barely knows the man behind the ukulele. He's a mystery that anyone who sights him would want to crack the code and find the answer.

What makes this man smile? What are the things that he likes or dislikes? What's his favorite place in the city? 

Brendon wanted to know everything about him. You'd be surprise, with how his attention span tends to be very complex at times. Almost no one can get a hold of his attention, and this warm feeling at the sight of Dallon's peaceful bubble is quite something for him to comprehend.

Tonight is also no different, as he mops on the floor with vigor after dropping a bowl of soup. Dallon scolded him, of course. That's how it lead him to cleaning duty that night.

"You missed a spot." Dallon says with a smug tone in his voice. Rude.

Brendon grumbles as he continues to mop, making sure the floor is soup-stained free and clean. Tragically, he made a wrong step as he slipped on the still wet floor and landed on his bottom.

Embarrassing.

To add more salt to the wound, Dallon was laughing behind him. It's almost a guffaw as the man laughs hysterically at his miserable, pride-losing state.

Brendon turns to the man with a glare to make him silence his laughing, but he stops at the sight of him. 

Laughter lines, reddened cheeks, and a somehow hypnotic sound of his laugh made him stare at the older man in wonder. That's when he starts to see Dallon in a new light.

The taller man is beautiful, despite the dorky black framed eyeglasses that hid his bluish gray eyes, old looking shirts and an almost father-like choice of apparel in addition of the messy hairstyle, Dallon is undoubtedly a beautiful man. If people of his class saw this man in lavish clothing and proper get up, all of them would have stared at awe just the sight of him with their jaws dropped.

Brendon feels that possessive urge not to share him to the world.

He realizes he's been silent for too long at staring Dallon's face when he sees a hand being offered to him.

"Come on. I'll help you up." Dallon says with a grin. The laugh inside him isn't that gone but he's trying to look sheepish at it.

Brendon takes a hold of his hand as he was hoisted up, and probably a bit too close of a proximity to the taller man as he stood in front of him. He looks up at the other man's eyes, wishing for him to drown in such gaze for more than a life time.

"Uh, Brendon?"

Brendon shook his head, snapping out of his trance and could feel himself flush. Dallon is close. Too close. Their faces are almost inches away from each other, he's almost close enough to kiss--

"I think, I should clean it from here." Dallon interjects as he takes the mop from Brendon's hands.

 _'What just happened?'_ He thought, as he sat himself on the couch and stares at Dallon cleaning the mess he made on the floor.

This was the problem Brendon had with getting married, arranged by his parents. They don't understand what he wants. It took three years for Brendon to realize that, while he's engaged with casual flings with women, that also goes the same for men.

His startlingly fast attraction to Dallon made him think of that. And he says ' _startlingly_ ' because his feelings seem to be moving a bit too fast. that it surprises him. He just met the guy a few days ago! Call it naivete or whatever, but he knows he needs to think this through before establishing such fact that he might like Dallon in an oddly different way.

"Arf!" Zero barks below him, wagging her tail excitedly as she decides to lie on her back and exposes her stomach.

Brendon smiles and scratches the dog's belly.

 _Domesticity_ \--Brendon thought--is pretty nice. The small four corners of this apartment seem more alive than his large, almost isolated mansion.

They had almost everything that this apartment does not. But if there was one thing this place has that overpowers everything he's ever owned in his house, it's the feeling of being at home.

With the feeling of fur under his hands as he scratches Zero's belly, the screech of the boiling kettle in the kitchen, the noise of a romcom show being featured in the television and the sound of Dallon's steps as he finishes cleaning the floor with a humming tune...

Brendon finally knows what _home_ feels like.

****

"You still never told me why you were running away from your own wedding."

It was a spontaneous question. Just out of the blue, he asked one day over coffee with Brendon why he was a running groom from almost a future of commitment.

Brendon looks up from his newspaper, his eyebrow raised in question before he answered. "Arranged Marriage."

That makes sense. Perhaps Brendon didn't want to get married. He's young, after. He still has a lot of time to find someone he would want to marry one day.

"How old are you again?"

Brendon didn't bother looking up from what he was reading when he responded. "I'm eighteen years old."

Oh. That's--

"You're eighteen?! And you were about to get married?!" He sputters at the ridiculousness that it actually happens in real life. He thought it only happens in those soap operas.

Brendon sighs, turning the page of his newspaper as if it wasn't a big deal. "My life isn't all fun and games when you hear the word rich." 

The younger man closes his newspaper, clearly losing interest at what he was reading and turns to sip his coffee without looking at Dallon. He wants to feel bad for Brendon, but he knows the kid doesn't need that right now.

"They wanted to teach me a lesson." Brendon says eventually as he plays with what seems to be a silver ring on his finger. He takes it off gingerly and shows it to Dallon. "They knew I had this terrible habit of hooking up with a bunch of people."

Dallon blushes at that. He barely had one relationship at Brendon's age, while Brendon has, as he would quote: a bunch of people.

Brendon didn't seem to notice his musings as he continues. "They wanted me to learn to commit to something. It's a win-win for them, since the person they wanted me to marry was my best friend, Sarah, whose father owned a mining company."

It seems the rich have this kind of custom to marry their children to another well-off family to keep their fortune for another generation. Dallon pondered if whether Brendon might have had some feelings for his best friend.

"Sarah is beautiful." Brendon says fondly. "She's also the sweetest girl you'll ever meet. She makes damn awesome cookies as well." He says proudly, sending Dallon a smile.

His sweet smile morphs into something mischievous at Dallon before he snickers. "Her parents didn't know she's lesbian though. She helped me escape the wedding by telling the priest that she needs to go to the bathroom."

That's a story worth telling one's grandchildren.

"So, do you think you can do it? Commit to something?" He asked curiously as he takes a sip of his coffee to gauge Brendon's response at that.

Brendon's gaze turned to him as something unreadable settled in his expression. He doesn't know what Brendon found when he suddenly smiles at him; wide and blinding, as his cheeks seem to look a bit red.

"I don't think it's impossible."

It sounded like a pointed answer towards something, or someone. Perhaps Brendon has his sights on someone now.

That's good. He should find someone who will make him happy.

****

Commitment. Love and commitment are two different things, but sometimes most people automatically assume that these two things are almost the same.

There's also a difference on who you choose to love and who you're suppose to love.

But is love even really a choice? If you ask Brendon, no. You can't choose who you love. Love is not a choice. But if there's one thing he learned from his parents, it's that you can choose to stay in love or choose to let it go and find someone else.

His parents also started from a type of love they didn't choose. They didn't love each other. But they gradually did, over time because they choose that. Feelings of love disappear, unfortunately, just as how love blossoms marginally in our chests.

But in most successful marriages, they are sometimes formed by an agreement. A choice, to stay and hold on to the vow promised.

Brendon still stands to that belief that love is not a choice, but commitment is.

That's a big thing. 

He suddenly remembered a certain brunette with lovely brown eyes from his past. Ryan. 

So young and naive, he was in love. And the word itself is a big deal. **Love**. His parents never knew about his thing with Ryan. But Sarah knew how much he cried over the boy. He thought what they had could be forever. 

But he remembers Sarah's words over his wretched feeling of sadness pooling deep in his chest. _'Our hearts don't choose who we love, but we choose if want to keep them, or let them go.'_

And Ryan let's him go.

Staying with Dallon is reminiscent to those feelings that seem to flutter again just by the sight of his megawatt smile or the soft hum of his voice as he sings.

He worries about getting attached to him. He worries that he'll break again if he chooses to stay. But he can worry about that one day.

For now, he stays as long as Dallon wants him to.


	4. Chapter 4

After a few weeks, Brendon's presence became tolerable, and then enjoyable.

The kid seems to be getting a hang of the chores around the house. It surprised him one morning to find Brendon sweeping the floors as he hums a familiar tune. It's one of his songs. Dallon smiles at the sight as he leans in the doorway to watch him clean.

He wonders about his sudden change. In his first few days of staying, he was an annoying brat. And then one day he'd be surprised to find his fridge full and stocked of food that was usually empty. Brendon would say some excuse, but Dallon knows he's trying to help.

Watching the son of a senator clean for you is a bit too much to process in the morning.

"Good morning, Brendon."

He tries to hide a snort as Brendon jumps and drops the broom. The kid slowly turns around, staring at him as if he's been caught of doing something evil.

"G-Good morning. You want breakfast?" He deflects the embarrassment for an offer of breakfast. Brendon made breakfast. He's not going to decline that offer.

The breakfast consist of fried eggs, some bacon and a loaf of bread with hot mugs of warm coffee beside two plates.

"You cooked this." It wasn't a question. Zero obviously couldn't cook this with her own two paws.

Brendon scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. "I woke up kinda early. I know you have work later so I thought I'd cook up some breakfast for us."

Wow. That's...

"That's sweet of you, Brendon. Thank you." He says sincerely, and chuckles at the sight of a flustered kid.

He takes a sip of the coffee, but he winces at the taste.

"Uh, is something wrong? Did I make it wrong?" Brendon asked with concern, taking a sip of his own coffee to check on the taste.

"I don't put sugar on my coffee. I was just surprised that it was sweet." _'Too sweet.'_ He thought. But he isn't going to discourage the other boy's effort.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea." Brendon says dejectedly while looking at his own coffee with disappointment.

Dallon is suddenly reminded of him and his siblings when they make mistakes. They would stare at their work sadly with tears falling in their eyes. He remembers how their Mom and Dad would kiss their foreheads to make them feel better and say that they did a good job.

You couldn't blame him for placing one soft kiss on his the mop of his hair. It's like having his siblings again.

"I appreciate it, Brendon." And he means it. He's thankful for his effort and he hopes the gesture was enough to make Brendon realize that.

Brendon just stares at him. Eyes wide, his face almost looks like it's flaming with blush and his mouth almost agape.

That's when he realized Brendon is neither a little boy or one of his siblings. He's an eighteen year old who might have thought the gesture was something less platonic.

It's Dallon's turn to blush at how _pedophilic_ that sounds.

He explains himself, with both of them blushing at such an awkward breakfast. But they laughed it off in the end, in which Dallon hopes the awkwardness happens scarcely to save both their dignities on their forming friendship.

Yes. He wouldn't mind being friends with Brendon.

****

_"You just reminded me of my little brother!"_

**Bullshit**. No one kisses their siblings anymore. Brothers don't kiss their brothers because that's just weird. Some probably do, but Brendon didn't need that kind of gesture to have his heart pop out of his chest like that.

He lies on the couch as he stares up at the ceiling. Dallon left for work half an hour ago, and so all he has is Zero. He lets the TV wash away the silence that his mind would greatly take advantage of and supply him with indecent thoughts about a certain man of tall stature and his bluish grays staring back at him innocently.

While Dallon could be cranky and snarky sometimes, he's probably one of the most honest people that Brendon has ever met outside of his closest friends. Most people he met always give him forced or fake smiles. And that's because he's the son of a Senator.

He closes his eyes and tries to calm his breathing. 

Brendon thinks about his family, who are probably still looking for him, if it wasn't obvious how his name and picture are on the TV, glaring right at him along with a reward money for finding him. 

He wonders what good it would be to have him back there in his old life. He'll probably just be lonely again. Night out in clubs and parties will never be the same anymore than the life he has here now. Brendon doesn't want to leave, if he could. What if he's been a big burden to Dallon? And he's just being nice to him to say that to his face? Dallon probably doesn't even want him here. He just forced himself into the older man's life.

Brendon shook his head and opens his eyes. _'Stop thinking.'_

He sits up from the couch and retrieved his discarded half-clean shirt on the chair. He turned off the TV and took one of Dallon's hoodies from his closet.

"Maybe having some smoke would do me good." He mumbles to himself as he raised the hood over his head and left.

****

"T-Teacher D-D-Dallon, I need to pee." An auburn, curly haired student said, raising his tiny hand.

This is the majority of what he does every weekdays. Helping kids into bathroom and helping the wash themselves, guiding them with arts and crafts hoping that the kids don't poke themselves in the eye with scissors.

He's been working part time for almost four months in this class, helping out a small, strawberry blonde, nice looking man as their teacher. He prefers to be called Patrick than Mr. Stump. Dallon once told him he thought he was going to be assigned to a bald, aging teacher with a stump on his hand but Patrick laughed at that.

"It's not unlikely to happen, guessing one of these kids could shave my head and cut off my hand with the way they wave those scissors--HEY! Timothy! What have I told you about cutting Suzy's hair?"

It's adorable, really. Especially during story time in addition to Patrick's astounding narration could make these kids beam and smile with delight.

Dallon notes one of the kids who seems to have a big crush on Patrick, always calling out for his attention and has this bad case of jealousy that Dallon has to sometimes distract him to keep him from crying.

"His dad is a single father." Patrick explains as he observes the kids during their nap time. "His mom died when she was giving birth to him. To Bronx. If his sudden fixation on me could help him move on from the loss of his mother, then I don't mind."

Dallon nods at that, suddenly remembering Brendon and how he wouldn't mind being some figure that could help the kid.

And so, despite the constant crying of the kids or the mess of fallen food on the tiled floors after their lunch time, Dallon loves his job.

"Thanks for the help today." Patrick says to him as he helps the kids with their school bags so they can go home.

He helped Patrick file the kids, returning them to their parents once they know their guardians are present.

"Wentz?" Patrick calls out as he looks for Bronx's parent to take him home. But there's no sign of his Dad or any guardian that could take him home.

Dallon noticed it happen often. Bronx's father is a famous lawyer in the city and is often busy. It's a usual thing to have Bronx the last one to go home. Poor kid.

Patrick crouches down, giving Bronx a kind smile. "I hope you don't mind staying with us for a while?"

Bronx gives him a shy smile and nods, as they lead the kid to the swing set. Patrick sits him on the swing, his tiny feet barely reaching the ground. Patrick gives him a little push that is enough not to send the kid flying off.

"Can you stay here for a bit, Dallon? I'll just clean up the room."

Dallon nods, taking a seat on the swing beside Bronx.

Bronx used to be a lonely kid when he was first brought here. He would usually sit in the back of the class with his head low. The little boy obviously has self-esteem issues, if not for the way he would say that his drawings resembles dog poop. 

It was only recent that he became active in class. He's one of the smartest kids, and always making sure he sits right in front of Patrick with the look of adoration is his little eyes.

"Can I tell you a secret, Teacher Dallon?" The little boy whispers beside him. He looks around, making sure no one could hear him.

"Yes, you can. I won't tell a soul." Dallon promises, making a gesture of crossing his chest.

Bronx nods, turning his gaze at his little, dangling feet. "Daddy told me that he likes Teacher Patrick very much."

Now that caught Dallon's interest. "Does he now?"

The little boy nods again. "Daddy said he'd bring Teacher Patrick to a d-d-da--"

"A _date_?" He finishes for him, giving Bronx a smile when the child nods eagerly.

"Yes! A d-date! What does that mean?" Bronx turns to him with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. Dallon wonders how his job turned out like this.

Dallon clears his throat, trying to find the right words on how to explain it to a child. "A date is... When two people want to get to know each other better and doing things like holding hands and stuff."

He has no idea how dates work in general. He's never been on a date before. 

Bronx stays quiet for a moment, processing the answer before he speaks again: "Is Teacher Patrick gonna be my new Mommy?"

"Uh, that's for your Daddy to decide, Bronx." Dallon explains, mentally patting himself on the back for the safe answer. "So are you okay that your Daddy likes Teacher Patrick?" He asked in turn.

Bronx smiles shyly, giving Dallon a solemn nod. "Yes. Because Teacher Patrick makes Daddy smile like how Mommy used to make Daddy smile."

Nothing could beat a child's honesty, Dallon thought. Bronx is such a mature kid. It would make you think about how as we grow up to adults, we tend to become less honest when it comes to our feelings because we fear of what others would think.

A gray car parks in front of the school. That makes Bronx jump out off his swing and runs towards a bleached blonde suited figure that exits the car. The child engulfs the man with a hug that it makes Dallon smile on how reminiscent it is to how he and his brothers greet their parents.

"Hey, Dallon. Thanks for taking care of Bronx." The parent greets with a smile in which he returns.

"No problem, Pete." 

Mr. Wentz-- _"call me Pete!"_ \--is just a casual man who prefers to be addressed normally. He wonders if lawyers are naturally this friendly like Pete.

Pete head turns to the school as if he's looking for someone. He's not being subtle about the whole infatuation with the other teacher then. By timing, Patrick returns to their side and greets Pete with a smile at the sight of him.

Dallon smiles absently when he heard the lawyer take a sharp intake of breath.

"T-Thank you, Patrick. For, uh. Taking care of Bronx." 

Patrick leans to ruffle Bronx's hair affectionately. "My pleasure, Pete."

Dallon clears his throat, when both adults seem to have taken a long time staring at each other's eyes. Bronx giggles at Dallon's intrusion like the kid just knew what he did.

"Bronx, want me to bring you to your car and wait for your Dad?" Dallon suggested, which made Bronx smile as he nodded eagerly and stretched his hand to be taken by the taller teacher.

As they both walked to the car, leaving behind the two infatuated adults, Bronx asked: "Do you think they'll be alright?"

Both of them turned back to stare at the two. They both look shy and slightly embarrassed; their cheek are both red and their eyes look everywhere but each other. Dallon wonders, if love blooms from something like this. Shy gazes, small smiles, rosy tints on their cheeks. 

He remembers his parents and their midnight talks. There's also sitting in front of the fire as his parents lean on each other, their hands wrapped around one's shoulders and one's waist in the chilly morning of December.

Fighting and arguing isn't out of the picture. A couple would scream at each other and say hurtful words, but in the end, they talk about it and everything is okay. That's how his parents worked it out.

It will go the same for Patrick and Pete one day. But as Dallon sees their intertwined hands as they utter their heartfelt confessions with such gaze of fondness in each other's eyes, he knows they'll be fine.

"They'll be alright." He assures Bronx, smiling at him with promise that Bronx believes in.

****

He's dated some people. He's had sex with them too, that's for sure. Brendon has definitely learned his lesson with Ryan. He's not falling for that one again.

The problem is, he seems to be falling a bit too fast in someone who's actually good with all good intentions and he doesn't know what to do about it.

It's probably his age or something. But it might have been Dallon's maturity and the sense of domesticity that felt just right while he stays by Dallon's side. It felt like he belongs there, and he just wants to wrap himself from the warmth that the notion provides in his chest. It was something that his previous life never gave him.

Every move he does around Dallon felt like it mattered, and it definitely matters when it concerns the older man's thoughts about him.

He doesn't remember being like that to anyone except Sarah, who is fine with his bullshit and keeps him in line. He's loves her for that.

Brendon leans against a railing of the balcony, puffing out smoke as he stares below the way life revolves in the suburban neighborhood. It's so different, compared to the life he had for 18 years. Always grand, always formal, restricted and judging.

Why did people even think bring rich is a blessing?

Dallon would have it better if he just returned home and gave the ransom he'll get for returning him. He could live better. He could shop and buy new clothes for himself. He could buy his own place and live in a better house rather than this small apartment. He could buy anything he wanted with the money and Brendon realized he would do anything for Dallon to get what he deserves.

That realization itself makes him fear that he's falling deeper than necessary and it's only been just one month of knowing the stoic man.

He's gotten himself attached already. He should have been more careful. What would Dallon think of him when he learns about this? Brendon's just becoming friends with the taller man, for goodness sake.

With his cigarette left forgotten, he drops it from the railing. Watching the cigarette fall on the pavement below him.

He heard footsteps climbing up the stairs. Brendon didn't bother looking who it was. Dallon doesn't get home yet so it's probably one of the tenants of the apartment. 

The footprints seem to be approaching the hallway that resides Dallon's room. He doesn't look up until the steps halt in front of him.

"Are you new? I don't think I've seen you before." A rather _English_  accent inquired. He didn't know Dallon had an English occupant neighbor in this building.

"I'm a friend, staying over Dallon Weekes' for a while." Brendon said, which made the taller man-- _Jesus Christ, another giraffe_ \--raised an eyebrow in what seems to be surprise.

"Oh. Well, I'm--"

" _Matty?!_ "

Dallon's voice echoed the hallway as he takes brisk steps and engulfs the curly haired man into a tight hug. The British man gladly returns the hug with same intensity.

Brendon wants to punch him.

Dallon breaks away from the hug and sees Brendon, giving him a warm, excited smile. "Brendon, this is Matthew Healy--" British guy chuckles, quickly adding **_Matty_** in Dallon's introduction. "--and he's Mrs. Truman's grandson."

Matty brushed away the untamed curls from his forehead, giving Brendon a polite smile along with an outstretched hand.

He would've taken this introduction with ease and friendliness if only the other man's arm wasn't wrapped around Dallon's waist as if it belongs there. Curse Dallon for being an oblivious dork.

"Brendon." He says tersely in a hard tone, but aiming for polite that wouldn't bother Dallon as far as he's concerned. He might have shook the other man's hand a bit tightly but he mustn't have noticed it.

Dallon urges Matty inside his apartment, and Brendon just watches them go as he sighs, turning back at the setting sun.

"I hope it rains tonight." Brendon mutters to himself before returning following both men inside the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Brendon sat awkwardly in the couch, putting his attention in petting Zero as he sat beside Matty. The noise of the TV envelopes the silence between the two of them.

Dallon insisted that he cooked for them and ' _assigned_ ' him to entertain Matty while he's preparing. There's apparently no need for the order since Matty has his headphones on, nodding along to the music he's listening.

He realizes this must be the university boy that Dallon mentioned about sometimes. All the books in Dallon's apartment are gifts from Matty. The genres range from mystery to sci-fi novels. There are a few text books and DIY Books that Brendon found along the collection.

An old turnable that Dallon often uses came from Mrs. Truman just a year ago. So, Matty also brings him some extra vinyls that he bought from England.

It's nice how their family treats Dallon like their own, giving him little gifts and extras for whatever he needs. Dallon never asked for them, but he deserves it.

"Brendon?"

His head snaps toward the curly haired man beside him, looking at him expectantly. That's when he realized he was asking a question. "Pardon?"

"I asked when you met Dallon." He says as he puts down his headphones and shifts his position to face him.

 _'I met him when I escaped my wedding.'_ Is what Brendon wanted to say but of course he can't. "I-I met him at his work."

Matty raised an eyebrow at him. "The preschool?"

"Uh. Y-Yeah. My little brother studies there. And then Dallon and I got talking. Yeah." Brendon mentally slaps himself for the lame lie but it's nothing as bad as the truth.

He inwardly sighs in relief that Matty seems to take that for an answer. 

"That's good. Dallon doesn't have a lot of friends. Believe me how surprised I was when I learned he has a friend staying over his place." Matty says with an amused, but fond smile. There's a hopeful look in his eyes. "At least someone would be looking out for him. I know I can't always be there for Dallon, but please, look out for him, okay?"

It sounded more like a plea than just any simple favor. Nonetheless, Brendon gestures his head with a nod and a smile. At least Matty seems to take that smile for an answer.

' _He's not so bad._ ' Brendon concludes.

"Did you know, when Dallon first came here, he looked like on the verge of dying from starvation. It scared me." Matty says grimly, his arm reaching out to pat on the sleeping puppy on Brendon's lap. " _Nana_ \--my grandmother and I, thought we should help him. I know his parents died from an accident. With his older brother still missing, he felt it was his responsibility to take care of his siblings on his own."

It's a realization for Brendon to hear Dallon's predicament. He feels ashamed for despising his grand lifestyle when there are others like Dallon who are living far worse than him. He has a house, the friends, the wealth. But what is he living for? Dallon lives for his family, but what about himself?

"Nana and I decided to let him rent an apartment with whatever money he's got on his pocket the moment he came. We couldn't leave him behind in that state." Matty continues, his face still grim at the memory. "I worry about him a lot. He's like a brother to me."

Brendon hums in understanding. He feels a bit guilty for his childish mood towards this man who only meant well for Dallon.

Matty runs a hand through his untamed curls and lets out a relieved smile. "But, he seems to be doing so well now. He looks a lot healthier, he looks happier. That's good enough for me." 

The other man turns to Brendon, the smile never leaving his face. "I'm sure you have some part of it. I'm thankful to you for keeping him company. A friend of Dallon's will always be a friend of mine."

Brendon flushes at the statement of friendship, and was about to deny the claim but was cut-off by Dallon calling them for dinner. 

Matty lands a friendly pat on his shoulder as he passed by him, making his way to the dining table and help Dallon set the plates. Brendon stays for a moment in thought, absently running a hand through Zero's soft fur. 

As if making a decision, he nods to himself with a tug on his lips. Brendon gingerly puts Zero off his lap and followed Matty, making a silent promise as he made his way to Dallon's side.

' _I'll look out for him, I promise.'_

*

 _'They got along well.'_ Dallon thought, his eyes gazing Matty and Brendon chatting animatedly as they watched a run-through of America's Next Top Model. It was Matty's suggestion, really. And now, he and Brendon are off on a bet on who'll win in the competition.

His place seems noisier than ever, and Dallon likes it. He loves how it feels more like the home he had with his parents. He remembers clearly how he and his brothers would fight over the remote to watch their favorite cartoon. Weston always beats them to it. He's the older brother, so he knows he can't fight against him.

Dallon frowns at the thought of his older brother. His brother loved this girl he wished to marry. The problem was, it was too soon. Weston was only 18 back then. But it appears that didn't matter for him when he ran away from home, taking the girl with him to who knows where.

He doesn't hate his brother for loving someone. But he hates that he didn't even consider what he'll be leaving behind.

Dallon thought about how similar it sounded to Brendon's situation. The difference is, it wasn't Brendon's choice. He hopes that whoever will hold this boy's heart would treat him the way he deserves.

As long as Brendon knows the consequences of his choice, then he'll be ready.

For now, he should savor his life the way he wants to.

*

"I was wondering if you know any place I could work at?"

Why would he look for a job if he's rich, you ask? Well, relying on his bank account won't last if he doesn't find a job soon. He should be helping Dallon. That's what he should be doing. Sooner or later his father is going to find out that he's been actively using his credit card for stocking Dallon's fridge and find him. He can't risk that anymore.

Fortunately, Matty seems to know a lot of gigs in the city. With his one month vacation from the university, it's convenient that the said British lad is in the country.

The curled haired man looks up at him from his phone. "Actually, a close friend of mine who owns the café two blocks away asked if I know anyone who could work for him. Would you be interested?"

Brendon nods eagerly, taking whatever job he can get if it means it could help Dallon.

Matty drives him to a small, well-lit café. He realized he's been passing by this café every time he's out for groceries. It's the first time he entered it.

Brendon appreciates the vintage feel of the café. The little polaroids on their cork board is a nice touch, along with the nice looking sound system--or rather, a _Jukebox_ \-- in the 21st century that adds to the vintage aesthetic of the place.

Behind the counter is a tall, raven haired man with blue-greenish eyes instructing a blonde barista on how to work on the cash register. The other man turns his head at the sight of Brendon and Matty, and his face lits up at when he sees the curled haired man.

"Matty! When did you come back, mate?" A baritone, _British_ , voice greeted his friend and gives him a hug.

Has the British quietly invaded America and he had no idea? Nah. Maybe just a coincidence.

"I brought someone looking a job. He's a friend of mine, or rather a friend of Dallon's." Matty introduces as he gives Brendon a light push toward the other man. "This is Brendon."

The other man gives him a kind smile, his eyes crinkling with warmth that seems very welcoming as the other man offered a hand. "I'm Daniel Smith. Or just call me Dan."

Dan briefs him of the job he's offering: A barista.

The owner did offer to teach him how it will work. And Brendon is okay with that. He's a fast learner. Handling a coffee machine and some irate customers would be a challenge but not a problem. As long as he can help Dallon, he'll try.

"And that's the lot of it. I can train you within this week, and it wouldn't take long. I believe your real work can start on Monday if things go well." Dan explains with glee in his voice. 

At least his soon-to-be boss seems like a good guy. 

"So, Matty. How's Dallon doing? Haven't seen him in a while." Dan notes, turning to curly haired man for an answer.

"He hasn't visited?" Matty glances at Brendon in question, but gives the other man a shrug for an answer. He didn't know Dallon knows this place.

"He's working in a preschool at present. Kinda busy, I guess?" Brendon mentions, as he takes a sip of the coffee that Dan made. He hums approvingly at the taste. It's great.

Dan smiles at him for his reaction, but turns to Matty again with an affronted, mocking look. "Tell the bloody wanker to bring his arse here in my café. He's welcome here anytime. We have a lot to catch up." Dan huffs childishly, seemingly disappointed that Dallon hasn't been visiting at all.

"Language, Dan. I'll be sure to tell him your displeasure of his absence at your café." Matty laughed heartily, finishing his tea and stood from his seat. Brendon watches as the other man fiddles with the jukebox, searching for songs.

"So, you're a friend of Dallon's. You look a bit young to be his friend." Dan states while Matty was away, there is a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "How did you meet him?"

Brendon tells him the same spiel that he told Matty. That would suffice.

What he didn't expect was that Dan seems to see him through.

"There's more than that, isn't it?" Dan surmises with flickering suspicion in his eyes.

Was he that obvious?

Dan clears his throat, mumbling a quick apology. "Sorry. I'm crossing the line. It's rude of me to pry. I was just..." Dan trailed off, his gaze turning to his hands on the table. He looks embarrassed. "I just wanted to make sure that Dallon's okay, you know? And that he's with the right people."

Brendon nods in understanding. He couldn't blame Dan for having suspicion. It's nice to know that there are people who care for Dallon other than him.

"You seem like a good guy, Brendon. So, I won't ask for more than that." Dan reassures him with a smile. "Can you make sure he visits here? I'm not as close with Dallon like Matty does, but after hearing his situation, I wanted to help him, at least. But I don't want him to think it's out of pity. I want to help him because he's my friend."

"Okay. I'll bring him here when he's not busy." He assures the other man. It warms Brendon to see such concern for Dallon. The said man seems very oblivious about such gestures of fondness towards him.

Dan takes that as an answer, excusing himself as he left Brendon on his own when one of his employees asked for help with the coffee maker. Minutes later, Matty returns to their table with a satisfied look on his face when the Jukebox plays a song he's never heard before.

"It's the _Arctic Monkeys_. I'm surprised you're not familiar with them." Matty mentions, tapping his fingers against the table, following the music's rhythm.

It's nice here. The warm atmosphere of the café can make a customer feel like they're in the nice comfort of their own homes. 

Brendon feels like he's going to be just fine working in the café.

*

It's a weekend, so he's on day off today from Preschool. Dallon mentally checks the list of duties that he needed to do that day.

Cleaning the house is done, laundry is good. Next is stocking the fridge.

Brendon's been doing it ever since he stayed with him. He appreciates Brendon's help, but he doesn't want to keep relying on the younger man even with his tight budget situation.

Dallon mentally catalogues his shopping list when he collides into a stranger as he rounds the corner of the street. "I'm sorry!" He mumbles a quick apology at the round faced man, who seems to have fallen his book due to their encounter.

"It's fine. It's my fault for not looking where I was going." The man smiles at him good naturedly, that somehow wipes off the intimidating appearance of this stranger. 

Dallon nods, moving past by the other man when the said man calls for him. "I was looking for an apartment that I could rent to. Do you know any place I could inquire, sir?" 

There are a lot of apartments within these streets. Dallon muses that the man must be quite picky with his surroundings if he hasn't found one yet. He gives the other man instructions on where to find those apartments. The gentleman gives him a thankful smile for the information.

"Thank you very much, Mister...?" 

"Call me Dallon." He replies with a smile. 

Making a little bow, the man offers an outstretched hand as introduction. "Nice to meet you, Dallon. I'm Spencer. I believe we may meet again."

Spencer thanks him again for the help and passes by him with a his book in hand. Dallon stares off at Spencer's figure with curiosity, then shrugs as he continues his stride to buy some groceries.

*

**_"I've found an apartment, sir. I'll be playing undercover for a while until I find him."_ **

He drops his call and puts his phone in his back pocket. The book in his arms weight against him, as he remembers an important image hidden in between the pages of the book.

Spencer takes the book in his hands, finding the picture of the person he's assigned to look for. An eighteen year old boy with honey glazed eyes. In the back of the picture, it writes: **_Find him._** Those are the specific orders given to him. Failure isn't an option.

"Where are you, Brendon?" Spencer mumbles to himself, hiding the picture back and securing the book in his arm as he walks toward the new room he's been given to.


	6. Chapter 6

"Dallon, are these your only shoes?"

Brendon stares at the worn out, overused shoes that the stoic man uses. It's been tattered with what Brendon would assume must be years of use. When was the last time Dallon bought something for himself?

The taller man looks embarrassed at the remark, his cheeks tinting with a rather rosy color as he stares at the old, very much used converse shoes that Brendon is holding in front of him.

He noticed how the only thing making the shoes intact was some strong glue and number of patches that Brendon would assume are holes on the shoes. The color of the shoes are fading due to years of use. 

Why hasn't Dallon thrown the shoes away?

Dallon takes the shoes from him, patting the dust off from the tattered pair of Converse shoes. "This is the first thing I bought for myself." He explains, as he places the shoes just beside Brendon's new-looking rubber shoes.

"I guess, it's something that makes me proud whenever I see it. It reminds me of all the hard work I did." Dallon shrugs as if it was nothing. He still looks embarrassed as his eyes seem to avoid Brendon's gaze.

"Why don't you buy a new one?" He suggested, but it seems the older man made his mind of not buying a new one.

Dallon shook his head, his gaze turning back at his shoes. "I can't. Not yet. Maybe soon."

That's when it hits Brendon. He can't afford it now. Dallon can't afford it now especially since Brendon's been staying over, his expenses might have added because of him. It feels like a punch in the gut to know that he's been keeping Dallon from buying something he wants.

He felt a hand pat against his head. The taller man is looking at him with concern, and perhaps, he might have read what Brendon has been thinking.

"I can't afford it at the moment because Jordan needed help with his project in school. I had to give him my savings to help him." Dallon explains, giving him a reassuring smile as he runs his hand softly through Brendon's hair, fixing the strand of hair against his forehead. "You've been nothing but a big help to me Brendon. How can I forget that?"

A warm, gentle smile graces Dallon's lips as he said those words. Brendon thought about how that smile is worth falling for. It's unfair, really, when Dallon does something innocent such as a sweet smile or his warm gaze. It's unfair how the stoic man's voice is so soothing that he wants to wrap that voice around himself like a blanket and stay there forever.

Brendon has gaping holes within him, but Dallon keeps sewing him; he keeps fixing him. Dallon takes him in despite being broken and ruined. 

Almost two months in this run down apartment, he felt more whole than he's ever been. Unexplainable, probably irrational. But he wants this. He wants this life. He _wants_ Dallon.

But deep within his inner pessimistic thoughts, a voice would object and reason out that the more he wants, the more unattainable they become.

*****

Dallon knows infatuation when he sees one and it worries him.

When he wished for Brendon to find someone he likes, he didn't think to include _himself_ on that list. 

He had his fair share of people who he was infatuated with. During those ages, he would have spoken out and asked those people on a date. But Dallon never had the courage to. Also adding the fact that he has priorities to take care of. Specifically, his brothers, Nathan and Jordan.

Now Brendon, he's not sure what to feel about the boy's recent attachment to him. Matty told him he's good at reading people. Noticing the younger man's fondness directed towards him is just an example.

Dallon knows the lingering touches, or the bashful smiles that he receives from Brendon. He knows the younger man's piercing stare as he plays with his ukulele. Staying quiet is the only thing to go.

He cares for Brendon. Just the thought of the boy getting hurt scares him. Dallon fears he might also be the cause of it one day if Brendon gets too deep.

The younger man is attractive. While people may see him as standoffish at a first encounter, getting to know him makes it harder for you to dislike his boyish charms. Of course, Dallon noticed him. He just doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Despite being older than five years, he can't help but be more parental about Brendon's case. He's 18 years old. He's young. Brendon will eventually find someone better when the time comes. If he wants to find love at his current age, then he needs to think of the consequences of what he's going to leave behind.

 _"He's not Weston."_ Dallon thought grudgingly. _"Brendon will be fine."_

Brendon will be fine as long as he makes the right decision.

That right choice isn't him.

*****

"You're suppose to smile at the customers, Brendon. Not pout at them." Dan chimes in after a brunette college student left with her take out frappé and fresh pastry. 

The grayish weather probably added to his current mood, and he can't help it. All he could think about is Dallon and he's not even sure why he's moping at the thought of the lanky man. Perhaps, it's that realization at the back of his head, saying: _This won't last forever._

The chipped away paint on the walls, the small cracks on the tile, the dusty old couch, and the rather scenic view from their small window overlooking the neighborhood of their apartment... The little things that deemed to be the things he adored will never really last at all. The very thought sinks Brendon's heart.

A hand snaps it's finger in front of his face, waking him from his deep thoughts. Dan's bluish-greens look at him with worry as their eyes meet. His boss smiles in understanding, giving him a pat on a shoulder. "I'll take it over from here, mate."

"N-No! I can still--"

"Take a rest, Brendon. Think of it as early lunch break." Dan suggested with a wink, gently pushing past him to take over the cash register and greet his next customer with a charming smile.

He smiles at his boss' gesture of concern. That's also another thing to value, actually. His job and the people he meet make it more harder to leave the life that he ran into.

Brendon takes a coffee mug from the back room and makes his own coffee. He also snatches a warm croissant that Dan so graciously offers to his employees during break time.

He really does need time to calm down and think about it.

The door chimes, signalling the entrance of a customer in the café. He was a fairly tall man with brownish hair. Brendon wouldn't bother taking a second look if only the man didn't look very familiar.

That's when his eyes widen as the other man locks gaze with him. 'Shit'.

They stare at each other for a moment before the familiar man speaks up. "...Brendon?"

 _Holy shit, it's Spencer_.

*****

_"Hey, Dal. Thanks for sending some money for the project. It really helped a lot."_

"As long as it's for school, Jordan."

Dallon rolls his eyes at his brother's claim that he's devoted to his studies. He knows his brother is a slacker, but he does his task when he needs to.

 _"So, how are you doing Dallon? Found yourself a special someone yet?"_ Jordan inquires with a glint of cheekiness from the other line. He rolls his eyes again at his brother's attempt meddle with his life. Specifically, his love life.

"You should ask Nathan that question. I'll gladly watch you be punched for it." Dallon retorts with hint of smile that made his brother laugh from the other line.

 _"That kid is a dork. We all know he idolizes you too much to the point where he almost acts like you. It drives me insane. It's like you never left."_ His brother jokes, and Dallon just chuckles at that. Jordan and Nathan are two different people. While Jordan is quite the prankster, Nathan is the quiet one. Honestly, he's more like...

"He's more like Weston." Dallon adds with a sad smile at the memory of his older brother.

The other line turns silent before Jordan spoke again in a solemn, honest tone: _"You're better than Weston, Dal."_

"Jordan, don't--"

 _"Don't deny it, Dallon. You gave up half of your life just to help us. Where is he, huh? Where is that goddamn older brother who's suppose to be the one to watch over us? He's a selfish asshole who didn't even think of us!"_ Jordan exclaims with frustration. 

Dallon knows that Jordan has been harboring such feelings for Weston. He couldn't blame him. But still...

"He's still your brother, J. No matter what." Dallon says to him, but from hearing the scoff from the other line, he's pretty sure nothing could faze his younger brother's mind set.

_"You were more of a brother than he ever will, Dal."_

Jordan has always been the emotional one out of all of them. It's a weakness, but Dallon knows it's also his greatest strength. 

His brother sighs. _"Treat yourself, Dally. I know we need some help from time to time, but we're doing fine. You don't have to always help us. If you need help, don't hesitate to call us, okay? Aunt Grace is having gray hair just worrying about you."_ Jordan chuckles at that, and Dallon's chest flutters with warmth just knowing that his brothers are doing okay.

"Take care, J. And tell Nathan I said 'Hi'. Love you guys."

_"Love you too, bro. Aunt Grace says you should visit us during the holidays. You definitely should, you workaholic jerk. Bring a special someone, 'kay?"_

Dallon laughs as he ends the call. It's just like his younger brother to keep on teasing him about looking for someone. He wouldn't be surprised if Jordan decides to set him up in a blind date with someone. He should be scared about that one day.

_**"You're too good for your own good, Dallon."** _

He clearly remembers those words from Jordan's lips before he left for the city to work for both of his siblings. Sometimes his younger brother has to remind him when he's being too hard on himself. He focused too much on being the older brother that he forgets that someone needs to look out for him too.

Matty already claimed the job without him realizing, and then there's Mrs. Truman who treats him like family--like a son. With Brendon in addition, he thinks about how all his hard work all pay off just by having these people around him.

He wouldn't trade them for the world.

*****

"What the hell are you doing here, Spencer?!" He hisses at the taller brunette staring at him with shock.

"Brendon, your father's been looking for you--"

"I don't wanna go back, okay!?" He says, sending a heated glare to his best friend. 

Spencer sighs, urging Brendon that they should have a seat and talk about it. He grudgingly agrees, despite already stating that he doesn't want to return back home.

"Did father order you to find me? If yes, then fuck off."

"Brendon--"

"Spencer. You know why I ran away."

The other man slumps his shoulders in defeat. "I know." He mumbles, his eyes gazing at the window of the café. "I was so worried about you. I know you didn't want to get married but I was so shocked that you left your wedding. I never heard from you for days, and then it became months, until Sarah told me the whole thing."

Spencer rubs a hand over his face, his expression looks stricken. "Like, shit. Couldn't you have at least told me where you were? You're parents are getting desperate to find you and I was so scared you might have died somewhere. Couldn't you at least tell me where you were? Don't you trust me?"

At those words, Brendon felt a heavy guilt on his chest. Spencer is right. He should have at least told him his whereabouts. His best friend has always been good at keeping his secrets. He should trust Spencer that he'll understand what he wanted with this life too.

"I'm sorry." Brendon mumbles an apology which makes Spencer smile. 

"You're such an asshole for pulling off this stunt, Bren." Spencer scolds him, but then turns into a relieved smile. "But I'm glad you're safe."

And so, he tells everything. Starting from the days he ran off and the day he started living with Dallon. Spencer just listens intently, nodding and humming at some parts of the story.

"Wait, what's the guy's name again?"

"Uh, Dallon."

Spencer hums in thought, then asked: "Is he a tall guy? Brownish hair, bluish eyes and certainly your type?"

"Uh, yeah--wait, what do you mean _'certainly your type?'_ " He squints at the other man's description, but the said man just smiles innocently, as if he never said anything wrong. 'Devious jerk' he mutters under his breath.

"I met him the other day. More like, bumped into him. Seems like a nice, quiet guy." Spencer mentions, giving Brendon an all-too-knowing-smirk. "Uh huh. Definitely your type."

"Shut up." He says, blushing furiously at his best friend's remark that made Spencer laugh.

It's nice seeing Spencer again after some months. He feels guilty of not telling him what's happening with his life. Brendon is then reminded of the important people he left behind. Do they miss him like Spencer has?

"Uh, Bren?"

Brendon turns to the baritone, curious tone of his boss who called him from the doorway. "Yeah?"

"I need a little help back there with the customers." He said as he points a thumb behind him.

"Oh, yeah. I'll follow in a bit, Dan."

"Thanks, mate." He says with a smile as he went back to attend with the customers.

Spencer stood up from his seat, going around to engulf Brendon into a tight hug. He returns the grip with equal measure. God, he missed his best friend.

"You got my number, buddy. Call me when you need me, okay?" Spencer says, which made Brendon nod in response.

Brendon leads him out by the café door. They wave at each other, giving out their goodbyes but then he remembered something and made Spencer stop in his tracks.

"Are you gonna tell Dad?"

He told Spencer everything he needed to know. But would that be enough to show his best friend how much he trusts him with such details?

Spencer turns around to face him, giving him a little smile that says everything that Brendon needed to know. "I was told that I'm rather good at keeping secrets." 

He smiles, watching his best friend's retreating back. Brendon couldn't help but wonder what did he ever do to deserve such a friend.

*****

_"Is he safe?"_

"Yes, he is. He's safe, and he's happier than I've ever seen him, Mr. Urie. Can't that suffice?"

The older man sighs from the other line, and Spencer is sure it's the man's way of conceding defeat.

_"Just make sure he's safe, Spencer. If he decides to come back, call me as soon as possible, okay?"_

"Yes sir."

He drops the call after a _'goodbye'_ with a smile, putting his phone back into his pocket. Spencer whistles a little tune as he steps on the pavement of the city streets.

Brendon's safe and happy, so Spencer will do his best to keep it that way.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The preschool opens early in the morning, where he and Patrick set up the small preschool for the student's activities for that day.

Dallon cleans the classroom as he leaves Patrick to plan out on today's activities. The classroom is a regular sized room with a good amount of space for the toy corner during break time and the book corner where they held their story time.

Bright colors of Yellow, Green and Red paints the walls, along with doodles of flowers, a house and sun. The other walls have bright redish numbers from one to ten. The alphabet on the wall, along with the images that corresponds to the letter.

There's a large corkboard where they put the kid's artworks each month after a major art activity.

One of the drawings that made him smile is of Bronx. The kid made a drawing of his face, smiling. And around his drawn face is the things that he loves. There's a drawing of his Mom, his Dad, and their dog. He grins at the image of him and Patrick in the mix.

His job is really worth it.

"Hey, Dallon. We have a new student coming in class, by the way." Patrick mentions, his eyes still glued to the paper he's working on.

"Really? When did they enroll?"

"Just yesterday. She's a sweet kid. Her name is Nicole." Patrick says as he looks up, a fond smile gracing his lips. "Is she related to you in some way?"

Dallon blinks, not really sure of the question. "What do you mean?"

Patrick looks down on his paper, squinting at it as he reads his list of students. "Her name is Nicole Weekes. Maybe you're related?"

_Weekes_ _?_

_"_ I-I don't think so?" Dallon says, unsure of the question.

Patrick nods, who just looks unsure like he is. They both drop the topic as they work on their current task, but the thought of the kid who resembles his last name runs in his thoughts.

*****

"So, you need advice, huh? What can I do for you?"

It's break time, anyway. It's pretty good timing to have Matty visit the café. There's something he's been planning for a while now and he knows only one person can help him.

He takes a deep breath, staring at Matty's greenish eyes, and gives his answer:

"I want to ask Dallon out on a date."

It's like he just dropped a bomb, because everything around him became silent at his statement, despite the cacophonous chatter of the customers. The sweat on his forehead slides down to the side of his head, his heart is beating out of his chest, but Matty just continues staring down at him unflinchingly.

"Oh my god. That's adorable!"

Dan's smooth, baritone voice exclaims, who apparently approached their table without them noticing. He slid a seat beside Matty, making the curled haired man scoot over and lose his stern facade at his boss' rather childish excitement over his statement of taking Dallon out on a date.

Matty grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face as he tries to hide his smile.

"You bloody dork, I was trying to act mature here." Matty says with a mockingly irritated frown, bumping his shoulder against Dan's in a playful manner that his boss just laughs at.

"Well, you're certainly failing there, mate. 'Could've fooled Bren here." Dan says, sending a cheeky, warm smile towards Matty. And from the smile that Matty returns, Brendon just knows he concedes defeat over that argument.

He _was_ almost fooled though, if his boss didn't step in.

"So, you said about a _date_ _._ Tell us the details! I got a some time to spare." Dan urges him as Matty groans, turning to the other man with his brows furrowed in annoyment.

"Hey, I'm suppose to be watching out for Dallon--"

"He's my friend too, if you've forgotten!"

Brendon just watches them in wonder as they argue on who looks out for Dallon. Their interaction isn't far off from a married couple, but he's not going to point that out and be nagged off by the two English gentlemen.

He clears off his throat, getting the attention of the two British men as he explains the details: "I was hoping you could tell me the things that Dallon would like? What kind of gift would he want? Does he fancy eating in restaurants or diners? Stuff like that?"

Matty and Dan seem to ponder a bit on the question, leaving Brendon to fidget with his hands in nervousness. A moment later, one of them speaks up.

"Dallon likes... simple things." Matty says, as he leans back on the cushion of his seat and crosses his arms. "He doesn't want expensive gifts or things like that."

"For starters, you should give him some art materials." Dan suggested as he turns to Matty in question. "He hasn't drawn in a while, has he?"

"Indeed, he hasn't."

Matty goes off explaining that Dallon likes-- _ **loves**_ two things: Art and Music. So, it's best off to bring Dallon into an art museum, or a local bar or cafe with bands performing. Luckily, Dan has _Music_ _Nights_ during Fridays where aspiring musicians can perform freely.

"Also, he also has this thing for _Dr_ _._ _Pepper_ _._ He loves those stuff. I keep those sodas in my café just in case he comes back." Dan mentions, which also explains the cans of Dr. Pepper stocked in the fridge each day.

"Hey, Brendon. Why Dallon though? I'm not saying Dallon isn't good, 'cuz believe me, he's a lovely, wonderful bloke. Too wonderful." Matty rambles, giving Brendon a critical gaze. "But, you know, you're young. There's so many opportunities for you out there, but then you choose Dallon. Why?"

Brendon feels like this is the question he's been waiting for. When he asked advice from Matty, he knew what he's getting into. But he feels like it's wrong, and he doesn't deserve their help because he lied to them. He lied to Dallon's friends on why he's there right now.

It's about time.

"I think... there's something you should know."

*****

"You'll have fun in there, baby. I'll pick you up later, okay?"

"M'kay!"

Dallon watches as a long haired blonde drops off her child in his arms. The woman is lovely and kind when he and Patrick talked to her. It's the first time seeing the woman, but he can't help but feel like there's something recognizable about her.

The woman seems to feel the same way as she looks up at him.

"I can't help but feel like I've seen you before." She says, analyzing his face as if she'd find the answer. Dallon isn't really comfortable being scrutinized that way, but he just lets her. Not wanting to be rude.

"Perhaps I look like someone?"

The lady giggles, smiling at his point. "Well, you could pass of as some famous actor in disguise with that face. Oh well." The blonde then turns to the child in his arms, giving the little girl peppering kisses in her face. "Be a good girl to your teachers, okay Nikki?"

"Yup!"

The child's mother waves them a good bye, before driving off to her work. The little girl-- _Nikki_ - _-_ turns to him with a curious gleam in her eyes.

"You're _really_ tall!" She exclaims with a giggle, her little pigtails waving as she looks around the playground where the little kids are playing. "Can I play now?"

"Of course!" He says with a warm smile, as he gently puts the girl down on the grassy field. She's about to go to the swings when she stops, turning around to face Dallon with a solemn expression.

"What's your name, Mister?"

The stern expression baffles him. But he answers the question anyway. "It's Dallon."

"D-Dal-Dallon?" Nikki utters, trying to pronounce his name carefully. When he nods, the little girl gives him a megawatt smile that melts his heart.

"Dallon! I like your name." She says with giggle as she skips towards the swings, saying 'Hi' to the kids playing there.

" _She_ _must_ _be_ _Nicole_ _Weekes_ _"_ Dallon muses, as he gazes the energetic girl who seems to already fit in with the other children.

He wonders, if it's worth asking her parents about her last name. Dallon shook his head at the thought. _"_ _Probably_ _just_ _coincidence_ _."_ He thought.

*****

The café is still full and bustling with people, but it feels like time has stopped for Brendon as he awaits the response of Dallon's friends.

He told them everything. Running away from a wedding, being in a rich family, just everything.

Brendon dreads for their response.

"...Well." Matty starts, who seems a bit shocked at the turn of events. "That's... interesting." He says, scratching his untamed curls.

"That's wicked. Ah! So, that's why you looked familiar! You must be that kid on TV with the ransom. But it seems they stopped broadcasting it these days. I assumed they've found you already." Dan says with an understanding smile, who seems to be taking it better than Matty has.

"I'm sorry I lied to you guys. You've been nothing but kind to me, and I'm sorry for lying to you about my situation." Brendon said, making his apology as sincere as possible to let them know that he truly feels guilty about it.

"Does Dallon know about this?" Matty inquired, giving Brendon a suspicious look. His body language looks guarded, and he silently hopes he isn't ruining the trust that Matty gave him.

"Y-Yes! Yes, he knows! I've never lied to him. I couldn't. I never could." He mumbles as he looks down at the hands on his lap, his response is still audible in front of the two gentlemen in front of him.

Brendon looks up at the sound of a chuckle, where Dan bumps his shoulder against Matty's. "C'mon, Matty. His situation is something almost surreal. I don't blame him for lying about it. Give him some slack, 'yeah?"

The curled haired man bumps his shoulder back at the other man, grumbling that he should get back handling his customers. Dan just laughs at his grouchiness as he stood from his seat, patting a hand on Brendon's shoulder as he walks off to the counter.

"You lose arguments when it comes to Dan, don't you?" He says cheekily as the remaining English man, who lets out a _'_ _Fuck_ _you'_ _,_ brushes away the untamed curls that block his eyes.

Matty sighs, giving him a stern look. "Okay, look. Brendon, I _hate_ liars. Got that?"

Brendon nods eagerly, gulping at the older man's statement.

"But I appreciate that you told us the truth. And I guess it does make sense that you would lie about it. So, what you did wasn't a grave matter." Matty says loosely, giving Brendon a smile that makes the tension on his chest ebb away. "Telling us the truth means you're willing to go lengths for Dallon. So, thank you for that."

Brendon lets out a sigh in relief, which makes the older man chuckle at him. "Y-You're welcome."

"If you hurt Dallon though, I'll _hurt_ you. Are we clear?" Matty adds, a terrifyingly sweet smile gracing his lips. All Brendon could do was nod eagerly, and not get killed.

"Uh, n-noted."

"Good, so let's help you out with your date."

*****

The new student was absolutely charming, and Patrick would agree with him on that.

Nicole is a bright little girl, and just a smile from her would have anyone charmed at her optimism and excitement. She's also very inquisitive, which Dallon doesn't mind.

"Looks like you have a little fan, Dallon." Patrick says fondly as the little girl holds on to his hand while the they file the kids for home.

"What does that mean, Teacher?" Nicole asked, looking up at Dallon with a curious gleam in her bright little eyes.

"Uh, it's... uh..." He utter intelligently.

Patrick chuckles, answering the question for him. "It means you like Teacher Dallon. It's like you admire him."

The little girl beams, smiling wide and warm at Dallon. "Yes! Yes I do! He's nice and I like it when he carries me because it's like I'm flying on air!" She says, gesturing her hand animatedly as she talks to Patrick.

The little blonde is also a chatter box. Did he mention that?

"Time for you to go home, Nikki. Who's picking you up?" He crouches, so he could face the small girl at her level.

"Daddy's picking me up today. There he is!" She points out, squealing at the sight of her father getting out of the car.

Dallon watches the girl run towards a suited man, and his heart stops at the sight as he sees the father's face. Nicole talks to her father, then points at his direction.

He can't breathe.

Nicole's father looks up at him, as his eyes gradually widen with shock at the recognition of his face. His heart is beating out of his chest as the other man approaches his space with the little girl in his arms. After all these years...

"...Dallon? I-Is that you?"

Dallon swallows the lump on his throat, staring at the other man as if he's some kind of illusion. He realized tears started to form in his eyes at the sight of the older man.

"...Weston?"


	8. 8

Dates weren't hard for Brendon. He knows what words to say, he knows the gifts to give to charm his way into a person's heart with ease and confidence.

When Brendon Urie wants something, he knows how to get it. What did you expect? His father is a politician who basically has firsthand experience on sweet talking the nation. Of course, he learned from the best.

The problem here is that, he's not gonna sweet talk the nation, he's gonna sweet talk his way through Dallon's heart. It's one person who matters more to home than he thought.

Brendon's aware, that he did get attached in the end. He did get attached to the stoic brunette with the gentle smile. A month ago, he would have denied all of these and keep telling himself that he's just going to break his heart again.

But now, Brendon knows and accepts that fact. He knows what's at stake of his choices. This is something his parents wanted him to learn. Commit into something you do.

With Ryan, it's different. He thought love was enough. He thought it was enough to maintain their relationship, but it wasn't. Brendon couldn't blame him for leaving.

Everything is different now. Brendon wants to do this. He wants to get to know Dallon better. This is his choice, and this is where he'd rather be.

And besides, whatever heartbreak may come from this, his heart is worth breaking for Dallon.

Brendon looks up, turning his head as a customer enters a café. He beams at the sight of the newcomers. It's Dallon, followed by a suited man with a child holding his hand.

He smiles at Dallon from the counter, and Dallon returns it when his gaze finds Brendon. It didn't go unnoticed how tense the smile was. It churns Brendon's stomach with worry.

"Dallon? Hey!" On cue, Dan appears from the back room, noticing the appearance of the taller man, and greeting Dallon with a warm hug. The other man seems genuinely surprised at Dan's appearance. The suited man behind Dallon smiles fondly at their little scene, while the little girl giggles.

"Wow, long time no see, Dan." Dallon says as he pulls away from the hug, giving the raven haired man an apologetic smile. "Sorry I couldn't visit you much. I was just--"

Dan chuckles as he waves a hand, breaking off whatever apology the brunette has to say. "Come off it, you wanker. It's no problem. Just really glad to see you. We have a lot to catch up." His boss says, giving Brendon a small, mischievous glance before turning to Dallon and his companions behind him.

Brendon tries not to blush at that pointed look. 

"What would you lot want for a drink? It's on the house." Dallon tries to open his mouth, probably to disagree but Dan cuts him off, pointing a finger at him to make his point. It made Brendon snicker. "Don't argue with me, Dallon." Dan insisted with a huff, which makes Dallon laugh. Brendon notices how the other man beside Dallon just watches with interest. It's as if he's marveling at the little interactions that Dallon has.

Who is that man, anyway?

After Dan takes their order and prepares their drink, Dallon turns to Brendon with a smile. "How's work?"

Brendon shrugs, turning to look at his watch. "So-so. Like, most of the customers are girls. I swear to god, most of them are just here for Dan." He giggles, remembering a discussion on some girl's table with her friends as he mops the floor beside them. _'He smiled at me and called me 'lovely'!"_

Dallon looked tense before but his gossip seemed to have made him feel at ease as he lets out a hearty laugh. "Dan's quite the natural charmer, but he's terribly dense, if you haven't noticed."

"Notice what?" Dan says, appearing by their side with Dallon's drinks on hand.

"Nothing. Dallon was just telling me how charming you are." Brendon teases, which made Dallon shook his head with a chuckle.

Dan wrinkle his nose at that, before letting out a crooked grin. "I can smell sarcasm from a mile away, you jerks."

Dallon laughs, then turns around to crouch in front of the little pigtailed girl. "Hey, Nikki. Do you think he's charming?" He asked cheekily at the little girl as he points at his perplexed boss.

The little girl--Nikki--tilts her head, observing Dan for a moment before she speaks. "He has pretty eyes! I like his eyes."

They all laugh, including the suited man at the girl's response. The blush on Dan's cheeks just makes it more hilarious.

"See? You even charm kids! That's talent right there, Mr. Daniel Smith. Kids never lie." Dallon says teasingly, making his boss more flustered than he already is. Brendon needs to get used at how sassy Dallon can be at times.

It's making him more eager to ask this man out on a date.

"Hey, Bren? Can Nikki stay with you for a bit?" Dallon asked, his eased expression shifting into something grim, taking hold of the little girl beside him. "I need to talk with..." Dallon pauses for a bit, looking hesitant as he glances at the man behind him. Brendon notes that he looks a bit like Dallon himself. "I need to talk to her father for a bit."

"Sure, Dal. We'll keep her company."

Dallon mumbles a 'Thank you', then takes their drinks, and leads himself to a table by the window with the other man following him. 

The little girl turns to them with a smile. "Hi! I'm Nikki."

Dan giggles at the adorable introduction, and Brendon can't blame him. It's hard not to return that smile. "Hi, Nikki. I'm Brendon, and I'm Dallon's friend. Nice to meet you."

*****

"They seem nice."

"Y-Yeah, they are."

If Dallon would scale the severity of how fast his heart is beating, he'd give it a 9 out of 10. It could have been 10. It could have, but should give himself a bit of credit for having the strength to not have his knees weaken at the situation.

Years have passed, and his brother is still as ' _dashing_ ', as his mother would say. His brother's face is what the norm would consider as masculine and dominant. But underneath that strong build, Dallon wonders if the soft-hearted brother he admired is still there.

 _'You have such a gentle face._ ' Weston would tease back when they were younger, poking him in his cheek. It was that time where Dallon thought he was being called 'girly'. It used to annoy him as a child. But now that Dallon notices the fond look in his older brother's eyes, he realized that the meaning of it is different from what he thought it was whenever his brother teases him about it, while flashing him that cheeky, white smile.

With a shaky breath, his brother smiles. The fond gaze remains, as he gives out a tearful, genuine smile and wistfully says: "You truly have mother's face." 

That's what makes Dallon chuckle, which sounded more like a sob than an act of humor. He rubs a hand over his eyes, trying his best to hide the tears that uncontrollably spill from his eyes as his mouth can't keep itself from laughing. Laughing and crying at the same time seems like the only response he could give out.

Is he suppose to be angry at him? Yell at him for leaving him and his brothers? Is he suppose to hate him? Anger? Yes. Hate? He never could.

Deep in the very pit of his mind, he feels like a kid again, crying over a scratch on his knee. And there, he sees Weston, ruffling his hair and says assuring things that would make him feel better.

He missed his brother more than he ever thought he did.

"I thought you'd grew out from being a crybaby, Dal." Weston teases with a laugh, but Dallon could hear the tremble and weight in his voice. It seems he's not the only one overwhelmed in this reunion.

"S-Shut up." He sniffs, refusing to lift the hand over his eyes. It's a bit embarrassing, being so emotional in such a public setting. He knows Dan and Brendon are staring at them with concern. But they know him well enough when he needs to face these things himself.

They stay silent for a bit, trying to calm down the emotions as they both dwell on what they should say next. It's not that Dallon doesn't know what to say. He has a lot of things he wants to tell him. 

"You look well." Weston says, breaking off the silence.

Should he says thank you or something? Dallon finds the whole talk a bit too much for him to process, but he wants to make up for lost time. He just doesn't know where to start.

Weston seems to understand him all too well, even with the years of separation, only his brother had seen him at his weakest point and never judged him for it.

"So, how long have you been teaching?"

Dallon clears his throat, hoping it doesn't sound too croaky. He gingerly removes the hand over his eyes, as his gaze immediately sets on his coffee. "A f-few months."

"And... Do you enjoy it there?"

Dallon nods eagerly, trying to control the warmth that start to form on his cheeks. He blinks, trying to wipe out the remaining tears that stay in his eyes. "Y-Yeah. Being with the kids makes me happy and they--"

"Dallon, look at me."

He bites his lip, a nervous habit. Dallon's bad enough with other people, and now even to his own brother. Why can't he be outspoken like Jordan? Why can't he--

"I'm sorry, Dallon."

Dallon blinks, turning to his brother's words with genuine shock. He noticed how his brother's eyes seem to be so deep in thought. It looks familiar. The furrowed eyebrows, his lips set into a thin line, the grim expression.

 _'He looks like Dad.'_ He thought, as he sees Weston straightening himself before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry for...everything. I know Mom and Dad weren't pleased with my choice, and I know that you or your brothers might have a grudge against what I did. I can't blame you for that."

Weston turns away from his gaze, a dark expression sets on his face. "I-I couldn't... I couldn't even go to our parent's funeral because I was too ashamed to face them as their son who left them behind. They must hate me for being selfish."

Dallon has always seen Weston as a confident, independent and resilient man. He has never seen his older brother so defeated.

"They don't hate you, you know?"

His brother raised an eyebrow at that, looking doubtful. Before Weston could even counter that, he continues.

"They miss you everyday, you know? Mom would sometimes wonder 'How's Weston doing?', 'Is he eating well?', Is he happy?'" Dallon smiles wistfully at the memory of his mother mumbling to herself while cooking dinner.

"Dad doesn't say much, but he does this thing often where he would look at your picture for a while." He says softly, as he remembers the memory of his Father looking at their family pictures. "I know he missed you a lot. Both of them did. They could never hate you."

Weston sat silent for a moment, trying to process the words that Dallon told him. Dallon's attention turns to his friends at the counter. Dan continues to accommodate the customers, while Brendon is talking softly to the little girl beside him, coloring in a blank sheet of paper for her amusement.

"Do you hate me, Dallon?"

He turns his attention back to his brother, who's staring at him sternly, waiting for his answer.

The only thing he could do is close his eyes, and lean against the cushions of his seat. He takes a deep breath, mentally counting to keep himself calm, and then, he responds:

"Hate, is such a deep word, you know?" Dallon opens his eyes, and sees the shift of Weston's expression. Nervous, afraid, worried.

"I was angry with you." He says calmly, without any hint of malice. It's just his words reminiscing a memory. "I was angry that you left us. You left us, and we were all devastated. It wasn't like you. You were always the favorite son. Mom and Dad spent their money to bring you to a great school. I was just there, helping around the house. Believe me, I was jealous of you."

It's an admission that he never told anyone. Dallon has always been jealous of his brother. All the things he got were just passed down to him from Weston. 

"When you left, I was mad at you for letting our parent's trust in you get wasted. I was mad at you for leaving us, and I was mad at you when you didn't go to our parent's funeral. You did all of these and yet..." Dallon trails off, his voice getting louder at every point. And then, he sighs. "You did all of these, and yet... I could never hate you. "

He could hear a sob in front of him, then he realized it came from Weston. "Y-You should." His brother's voice is heavy with guilt. "You should hate me. I was a coward. I just--"

"Yes, you were a coward." Dallon interjects, his tone was hard and direct, but it softened once he continued. "But you should never be hated for loving someone. You loved that girl with all your heart, and now..." He trails off, turning his gaze to Nikki. Weston's daughter, and his niece. "You're blessed with the little bundle of joy."

Dallon smiles at his brother, and it feels like it's his genuine one. It's as if all of his burdens we're lifted in that one admission. "And besides, you're my brother no matter what, Weston. Remember what Mom and Dad tells us whenever we get into a fight?" 

Weston nods, returning his smile with a tearful, genuine grin.

"Don't let fights make you sway, we'll always be a family in any way."

The brothers chant it simultaneously, and they both laugh. It's heartfelt, deep and true. Dallon has never felt this free for such a long time. Free of burdens, free of aches.

As he watches his older brother laugh in such a carefree manner along with him, he's assured that things are starting to look up for him.

He plans to make it that way, one step at a time.

*****

If watching two people crying in a soap opera feels like a joke, seeing one in person is not.

Brendon couldn't help but look back at Dallon's table with whatever chance he could get. He could see Dallon laughing with the other man now. That's good.

He was still trying to let go of the shock, seeing the older man that he depended on with tears falling from his eyes as he was laughing. That's not a normal reaction, but what does he know? Whoever that person he's talking to must be important.

"Brendon? I'm hungry."

Brendon turns to the little girl beside him, looking up at him with her adorable eyes. She was pouting, which made her even more adorable.

"Do you want some bread? I could make you a chocolate drink too." He offers to the pigtailed girl. He grins when Nikki nods eagerly at the offer.

He left the girl at the counter, telling her not to leave as he makes her food. Brendon goes to the back room and almost bumps into Dan.

"Oh, hey. Looks like Dallon's having quite a talk there, huh?" Dan notes, looking worried as well for his friend. Who wouldn't be?

"Do you know who that guy is?" He asked, as he collects a mug from the cabinet.

His boss hums in thought. "If... That person is who I think it is..." He trails off, as his expression seems to look more concerned. "Matty would not be pleased."

"What do you mean?"

Dan leans against the arch of the doorway, his eyes furrowed in worry. "That person who Dallon is talking to might be his older brother. Matty is really pissed at him, and I don't think I could stop him from punching his brother."

Brendon doesn't get it. He did remember Matty mentioning that Dallon had an older brother who was missing. What did Dallon's brother ever do to Matty?

"Well, Matty treats Dallon like a brother, right? He won't hesitate beating the crap out of anyone who hurts him. That's how far Matty is willing to go for Dallon." Dan shrugs, looking helpless at the situation. "Did Dallon not tell you about his older brother?"

Brendon shook his head, feeling lost at the events. He wished he knew what was going on.

"That's not really something for me to tell you. Sorry, mate. I just hope Matty doesn't come back again while Dallon's making up lost time with brother." Dan concludes with an apologetic smile as he returns to the counter.

He tries to keep his thoughts in control, and keeps himself busy in making the little girl's food instead.

As he sets Nikki's food in front of her, the little girl gives him a lovely, thankful smile. Brendon coos at her, giving her a pat in her little head.

 _"She smiles just like Dallon."_ He smiles at the thought. His smile morphs into a grin at the realization that this kid may be Dallon's niece.

He learns a lot about Dallon each day.


	9. Chapter 9

"I know I've never mentioned him before, but that was my older brother. His name is Weston."

Brendon keeps his eyes on the sidewalk, but listens in rapt attention as Dallon tells him the details of his older brother. He can't help but compare Weston's story with his. Same actions with different intentions. Weston ran away for love, and he ran away  ** _from_** love.

He would have done the same thing, with the way he's living right now. Being forced to get married and such.

"I didn't think I'd have a niece though. Nikki is a sweet girl." Dallon says fondly, his gaze full of warmth that makes Brendon smile. "My other brothers would love her. I'm sure my parents would, if they were still here."

"Nikki is a good girl. Who wouldn't love that little kid? She's charming." Brendon adds, then turns to Dallon with a teasing smile. "I think she gets it from the uncle."

"Being charming is in our blood, Bren." Dallon says with a lopsided grin that made Brendon roll his eyes at him.

"Yeah, okay sure. Whatever you say."

"Don't roll your eyes on me. I know you're not immune to it." Dallon retorts, and Brendon wonders if Dallon even realizes that the brunette's charm is his greatest weakness.

Brendon just laughs, and they continue to walk on home. No need to say that out loud now. Not right now, Urie.

"Okay, so. I think you should expect a visitor. I'm planning to catch up with Weston, you know? It'd be nice if you two get to know each other." Dallon says, once they reached their apartment. "Unless you have other plans?"

"Uh, no?" Brendon is suddenly nervous at the idea of meeting Dallon's brother personally. He hasn't even asked Dallon out on a date yet and just the idea of meeting his older brother personally is already making his stomach turn.

Dallon seem to have noticed his sudden discomfort, then laughs. He wraps an arm around his shoulders as assurance. Dallon isn't all that touchy, but when he does, Brendon just flushes.

"Don't worry. Weston will like you just fine, Bren. I know it."

****

Dan is laughing at him.

"You're just going to introduce yourself to his brother. You're not gonna ask Dallon's hand in marriage." Dan said in between his laughs. Brendon sends him a glare of a warning but it doesn't faze his boss.

"Well, not  _yet_ , anyway." Dan adds cheekily.

Punching his boss in the arm could probably cost his job, but Dan's too easy going for that, and resumes to laugh at him.

"But this is someone important in Dallon's life! I don't wanna make a bad first impression to his older brother." Brendon frets, that if he makes a wrong move, he'll never have a chance to ask Dallon out.

Dan's laughter fades, as his expression turns into something solemn. "You really do care for him, huh?"

Without hesitation, Brendon answers. "Of course."

His boss hums, crossing his arms against his chest and leans against the wall. Dan gives him this gauging stare that unnerves him.

"How does it feel? To like someone?"

Brendon stares at Dan incredulously. It's a question he didn't think he'd hear from his boss. What kind of question is that?

So, he just settles with a chuckle. But even  _he_ sounds unsure how to answer that question. "That's an odd question. It's like you've never experienced it yourself."

Dan just shrugs, but his face is anything but joking. "I really don't know. I might have experienced it, but I'm not sure if that's  _it_ _."_

That would explain why Dan's still single.

Brendon clears his throat, trying to keep the warmth in his cheeks in check as tries to explain the feeling to Dan. "It's just... When I see Dallon, I get this weird feeling in my stomach."

"Is this the ' _butterflies_ _in_ _my_ _stomach'_ thing?" Dan asked out of curiosity, and Brendon nodded.

"Yeah, that's it. And then you feel like your heart is beating so loud and fast, that you're afraid the other person might hear it."

"That's not possible though." Dan chimes in, an amused smile settling his lips.

"Yeah, but that's what you'll feel." Brendon said, as he gives Dan a fond, faraway look as he remembers everything about Dallon. "They're going to make you clumsy, or stutter in your words. You're going to make an embarrassment in front of the person you like but at the end of the day, seeing them happy from those little mistakes is going to make it worth it."

Dan seems to ponder about that. Furrowed eyebrows, and firm setting of his mouth as he thinks.

"Do you think that's  _love_? Do you  _love_ Dallon?"

If Brendon was his old self, he would have said  _'_ _Yes_ _,_ _that's_ _love_ _.'_ But his stay with Dallon taught him some things. The word  _ **love**_  itself is too vast, too general. It could mean all sorts of things, or it could probably just be infatuation, for all he knows.

"I'm not sure yet." Brendon says softly, and it's the truth. He learned the hard way that  _feelings_ aren't enough to determine that factor. Holding hands or kisses under the stars isn't enough for that.

He  _wants_ Dallon. It sounds objectifying and possessive. But it's not really with bad intentions. It's just that when he looks at Dallon, it's like he's too... pure? No,  _fragile_ _._ It's like wanting something you can't touch out of fear that it might break.

He knows the pain in Dallon's eyes that even the older man himself doesn't notice, even when he acts like he's strong like he always does, Brendon sees beyond that facade.

That's what he get for always keeping an eye on Dallon.

He doesn't know what made him decide to try and push his luck, with his plans on asking the brunette out on a date.

But perhaps, it's the fear of knowing that staying with Dallon won't last. And he doesn't want to regret it.

"I think I get it." Dan says, interrupting his thoughts. He almost forgot his boss was there out of his musings.

"Get what? About knowing what it's like to  _like_ _someone_ _?"_

Dan chuckles, as he pushes himself off the wall and approaches his side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No, I'll know that in my own time." He says amusedly, but then shifts his expression with a soft gaze. "I just know that you'll be good for him. And his brother would be impressed with that."

"H-How do you know?"

Dan gives his shoulder a squeeze, as if it gave the answer. "I don't know about love, or all that. But just seeing how you talked about him is already enough."

And with that, Dan let's go of his shoulder, and takes his leave from the room. Silence then surrounds the room and leaves him to his thoughts. The discussion gave Brendon a whole new realization of what he feels for Dallon.

He's pretty sure it's not infatuation anymore.

In his head, he can imagine words that make sense in his mind. He can hear a rhythm, a melody. He can imagine words that equals the harmony that his mind conjures as his brain remembers faint images of everything he sees about Dallon.

And so, he takes out the pen from his pocket and writes against his skin:

_"_ _When_ _the_ _world_ _get_ _too_ _heavy_   
_Put_ _it_ _on_ _my_ _back_   
_I'll_ _be_ _your_ _levy_   
_You_ _are_ _taking_ _me_ _apart_ _like_ _bad_ _glue_   
_On_ _a_ _get_ _well_ _card_ _"_

****

Since his talk with Weston, Dallon has thought a lot of things.

How would his brothers react if he told them he saw Weston again? How would  _Matty_ react? Would Weston's family like him? Would  _Nikki_ want him as an uncle?

While he's glad that he settled things with Weston, he still has worries. This a bad habit of his; always thinking ahead when it hasn't happened yet.

Dallon was about to turn to the corner of the street, until someone called him.

"Hey! Dallon, wait!"

Dallon turns around to the voice who called, and sees a familiar man. Brown hair, round face, book.

He watches as the other man catches up to him, panting as he jogged his way towards him. "H-Hey. 'You remember me?"

"Uh, Spencer, right?"

Dallon was kind of unsure if he got the name right, but he's relieved when the man nodded eagerly.

"So, you found an apartment around here then?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah. Just close by here. Okay, look. Sorry to cut this casual conversation short, but I was hoping I could talk to you about something. If you have time?" Spencer says, who seems eager for his response.

"Sure?"

"Perfect. Let's go to a cafe. A different one, just close here."

Dallon isn't sure what Spencer would want to talk about with him, but a cafe is a good enough, crowded place just in case the other man does anything shady.

Besides, it seems important.

****

_"Oh my god, who is he? I gotta know who he is."_

Brendon couldn't help but smile as he hears the excited tone of Sarah's voice. He hasn't heard one of his best friend's voice in so long. From the moment he got home, he doesn't know how long they've been talking on the phone now.

They went through how he's doing, how he's living his life, and then he mentions about someone he made a song about. That's when Sarah squeals in delight that made Brendon chuckle.

"Sarah, calm down. I'll tell you all about him. Tell me what you think, okay? You're always a good judge of character."

 _"Tell me all the juicy details! I'm listening."_ Sarah exclaims; always the supportive friend that she is. He loves her dearly.

"Okay, okay. So, his name is Dallon Weekes."

Brendon starts off explaining how they both met, on how he started living with Dallon, and just about everything there is to say about the brunette. His friends, his family, and even Zero.

 _"_ _How_ _long_ _has_ _it_ _been_ _since_ _you_ _wrote_ _a_ _song_ _?"_ Sarah interrupts, stopping his talk. Now that he thought about it, it's been...

"Years?"

 _"_ _Exactly_ _."_ Sarah confirms, which made him more confused.  _"_ _This_ _guy_ _is_ _special_ _enough_ _that_ _made_ _you_ _write_ _a_ _song_ _._ _You_ _wrote_ _a_ _song_ _, and that's something you haven't_ _done_ _in_ _years_ _._ _And_ _when_ _was_ _the_ _last_ _time_ _you've_ _done_ _that_ _?"_

"When I was with..." He hesitates, but musters the strength to say the name anyway. "Ryan."

He heard Sarah sigh from the other line, and it was something she did when she's concerned.  _"_ _Brendon_ _,_ _I'm_ _worried_ _._ _This_ _Dallon_ _guy_ _sounds_ _wonderful_ _,_ _but_ _that's_ _probably_ _how_ _you_ _made_ _it_ _sound_ _._ _What_ _if_ _he_ _hurts_ _you_ _like--_ _"_

 _"_ He's not Ryan." He quickly added, before she reaches to the conclusion.

_"_ _Okay_ _,_ _so_ _he's_ _not_ _._ _But_ _what_ _if_ _he_ _hurts_ _you_ _?"_

"That's inevitable, Sarah. We will always get hurt." Brendon answers, his chest feeling a heavy weight as he speaks, feeling a lump on his throat. "People will always hurt others whether it's intentional, or not. Dallon isn't different from that, but he's just... he's worth it."

He smiles sadly, remembering the sight at the cafe, with Dallon laughing as he tries his best to wipe off the tears that fall from his eyes as he talked to his brother. "Seeing him hurt already hurts me in so many ways, you have no idea. Because it's not in my hands to heal the pain he's been struggling for years."

Sarah stays silent at that, as he let's out a shaky breath. "I want him to share his pain with me, so he doesn't have to go through it himself. He's been through so much. He deserves that smile on his lips. You should see it, Sarah. It's like he lits up the whole room with that one, gentle smile."

Brendon smiles to himself, and closes his eyes, seeing Dallon smiling at the back of his eyelids. "And what I would  _give_  to see it always." He says softly, and sincerely. It's as if he gave his heart to that one phrase with a lasting promise.

It took a while, before Sarah responds.

_"You should introduce me to Dallon._ _I_ _want_ _to_ _meet_ _him_ _."_

Brendon opens his eyes, and blinks. Wait. What?

"Wait, what?" He repeated vocally, making sure he wasn't just hearing things from Sarah.

 _"_ _I_ _said_ _I_ _want_ _to_ _meet_ _him_ _,_ _dummy_ _."_ She scoffs, clearly unamused by his untrained ears. Brendon could just imagine her giving him the eye roll _._  " _I_ _._ _Want_ _._ _To_ _._ _Meet_ _._ _Dallon_ _._ _Got_ _that_ _?_ _Give_ _me_ _your_ _address_ _."_

He squints his eyes at that as he sit up from the bed he was lying from, squinting as if his best friend could see the suspicion in his eyes. "What are you planning?"

 _"_ _Oh_ _,_ _nothing_ _."_ She says sweetly that made Brendon even more suspicious.  _"_ _I_ _just_ _wanna_ _meet_ _the_ _guy_ _that_ _has_ _you_ _whipped_ _."_

Brendon dramatically gasps, feeling affronted as he fight off the blush that starts to form in his cheeks. "S-Shut up!"

Sarah just laughs, and Brendon just laughs along with her. He gives her the address, just because he misses her and gives her a warning not to do anything odd to Dallon.

 _"_ _Don't_ _worry_ _!_ _I'm_ _not_ _gonna_ _do_ _anything_ _to_ _him_ _."_ She chuckles innocently, before adding the mysterious after note.  _"_ _Yet_ _."_

She let's out a quick  _'_ _bye'_ before Brendon could even ask what she meant. He groans, fearing he's going to bring Dallon in some death wish he didn't wish for. Hopefully Sarah isn't too harsh on  _whatever_ she plans.

Brendon heard a bark from the living room, and a sound of the door closing. Dallon must be home.

"Dallon? Welcome home." He says as he enters the living room.

Something felt  _off_ _,_ when Dallon just stood there, staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"You okay, man?"

Dallon blinks, then opens his mouth to speak, but closes it fast. He looks everywhere but Brendon, and one thing to note is the pinkish tint of color in Dallon's cheeks.

"I-I'm, uh, fine. I'm fine." Dallon stammers, the blush becoming more prominent in his cheeks that just further fuels Brendon's confusion.

"I-I should, uh, go back to my room and, uh, change."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Brendon watches as Dallon awkwardly shuffles past him, his head down low, with his hair covering his eyes.

"B-Brendon?" Dallon calls out once he reached the door of his room, his back facing him.

"Yeah?"

Dallon turns, peeking at him over his shoulder. He seemed hesitant but says it anyway. "Y-You look nice."

The brunette enters the room quickly and closes his door. Leaving Brendon gaping at him with the blush burning in his own cheeks.

What just happened?


	10. Chapter 10

It's a relief for Brendon, that things seem to be shaping up now.

Pete just learned that he's staying at Dallon's. The lawyer was just relieved that it was Dallon rather than some shady person, so there's that.

He and Dallon also cleared up their little  _misunderstanding_ _._ Well, he was a bit pissed at Spencer for meddling with his life. Sure, he's experienced heart break before and it will happen again, probably. But he learns from it.

Nonetheless, he still appreciates Spencer, who was only looking out for him in the end. That also cleared up a few things.

There's just one thing he needs to do now.

"There's something you need to know, Dallon"--"I need to tell you something."

The two men blink at each other, realizing that they spoke simultaneously.

"Y-You go first, Dallon." Brendon suggested.

"Uh, okay."

Brendon couldn't even comprehend the awkward tension between them at this moment. They've been talking normally after the whole Spencer ordeal, but there's still some parts of it that felt awkward, and he can only hope it dissipates soon.

Dallon clears his throat, then turns to look at Brendon. "So, It's almost the holidays, and uh, I'm going to visit my brothers in Utah with Weston's family next month."

"O-Oh." Brendon utters. Of course it's almost the holidays. No one's going to be in the apartment then. Does Dallon want him to go home now?

"I was hoping... you can come with us?" Dallon continues, a small, hopeful smile gracing his lips. "I already asked Weston, and he'd be glad to have you celebrate with us."

"Dallon, you don't need to do that. This is your time together as a family." Brendon says. He doesn't want to intrude in their reunion. He knows it's been years since Dallon's brothers saw Weston. He doesn't want to bother them.

"Brendon, please? I just..." Dallon trails off, looking hesitant. "I'm scared."

Scared. It's not something he's heard from Dallon before. People would say being afraid of something is a sign of weakness. But it's not entirely true. Nonetheless, what's Dallon afraid of?

"It's just that... Nathan and Jordan... They might not take it well, with Weston returning and all." Dallon explains softly, his head hanging low. Brendon could see his shoulders slump in defeat, his hand clenched tightly on the table. "E-Especially Jordan. I just don't know what to do if they end up fighting. I want them to make up and start . It's been so long, you know? I want us to be together again but I just... I don't know what to say if it comes to that. I'm scared."

Brendon sighs, understanding the severity of the situation, then slowly reaches for Dallon's hand on the table. He intertwined his hand to the brunette's long, calloused hand. The skin is kind of rough, along with the presence of a fading scar; a sign of his years in working hard for his family. It's a sign of all his hardship and struggles.

He wraps his hand around it, feeling it's warmth beyond the callous and rough exterior of his palm.

"You've been through so much, Dal." Brendon says, a smile forming in his lips as he gazes at the brunette's unsure, hesitant stare. "Even I would feel afraid, if I was in your situation. But you're going surpass whatever pain or fear you're feeling when you go through it. You've done it for years. Just like all the things you've done for your brothers."

"But you're not going to through it alone this time." Brendon continues, squeezing Dallon's hand in assurance as if he made a decision. "I'd love to meet your family, Dallon."

It was all too fast for Brendon. At one moment, he was sitting in a chair, holding on Dallon's hand. And the next thing he knew, the older man pulls him up from his seat and wraps his long arms around him. Dallon leans closer, his face hiding against his shoulder.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Dallon mumbles gratitude against his shoulder. Brendon is all too shocked at the gesture; his heart beating faster than anything he's experienced before. Once he calmed down, he returns the gesture, wrapping an arm around Dallon's.

"You make me feel like I can do anything. That's why I want you with me." Dallon admits with a flush on his cheeks as he pulls away slightly, still keeping up some proximity. Brendon could see his eyes glistening, but his lips are tugged up into this warm, gentle smile that he told Sarah about; that one smile that lits up the whole room.

"Because you can." Brendon says confidently, returning the older man's smile. "And I don't need to be there to prove it."

How he would wish to make it his duty to turn away all of the brunette's doubts and fears within himself. Dallon's special and someone needs to reassure him.

"Thank you, Brendon."

"You're welcome."

They both look at each other in silence, basking on the comfort that it provides. The awkward tension is surely gone between them, and Brendon's thankful to that. But he realizes Dallon has yet to keep distance between them. He's not sure if the brunette realizes.

But honestly, he doesn't mind if Dallon's arms just remain around him and never lets him go.

It's too good to be true, it seems, when they had to let go. But Dallon looked much better than he was before. And that's good enough for Brendon.

"What was it you were gonna say earlier, Brendon?"

Brendon blushes, remembering the  _offer_ he had in mind for Dallon.

But perhaps, that can wait until he meets Dallon's family.

"Nah, it's nothing important. I just think you look wonderful today. Just as you've always been everyday."

****

"Are you guys ready?"

Dallon nods, carrying his bag and puts it in the trunk of Weston's car. His bag placed just beside Brendon's.

He didn't think that this is about to happen after so many years; he didn't think all of them will be complete after so long. The only thing that he wished for is that  _all_ of them would get along and start over again.

Dallon's tired of feeling anxious. He should be excited for this reunion, but what if,  _what_ _if_ _,_ _what_ _if_ _._ These  _what_ _if's_ would constantly cross his mind.

_'_ _What_ _if_ _they_ _don't_ _get_ _along_ _?', '_ _What_ _if_ _they_ _never_ _forgive_ _Weston_ _?', '_ _What_ _if_ _they_ _never_ _be_ _complete_ _?'_

If his parents were still alive, they would have scolded them from this spat they have. But after their death and Weston's disappearance, he had to stand up and take everything. He had to take every weight and pain just to keep his brothers alive. He forced himself to be strong, and give out his best smile to the challenge ahead.

Right now, he's probably at his limit. The last strength he has within him is just to keep smiling and not break down and cry at how tired he is of everything.

People always lean on him, and perhaps Jordan was right; maybe it's his turn to lean on someone when he needs to.

That's why Brendon's presence is so important to him. The younger man makes him feel like he can do  _anything_. Brendon looks at him as if he's worth more than just anything exquisite you can think of.

The younger man can see through him, and Dallon is still trying to adjust on how the Brendon could act so mature over the span of months.

Brendon sticked with him, no matter how things became awkward for them at some moments. The younger man works hard to prove himself; clearly not like how he was the first time they met.

All he knows is that Brendon will leave him one day and return to his old life where he's wealthy and taken cared of. Dallon would rather push him back to that life, and not have him stay at his own miserable little life.

But deep inside, he wanted to be a little selfish, and have Brendon stay with him for as long as he can have the other man. He wants to see Brendon's charming smile everyday, or eat his breakfast and taste the younger man's coffee the way he knows his taste. He wants to keep seeing his wide eyed brown eyes that often stare back at him fondly, or how his hand would cover his and share its warmth.

He wants Brendon to stay. That's something he wanted for himself.

But he has this penchant of choosing his morals over his own desires.

The only thing he could do is cherish this while the younger man is still here.

Dallon turns to Matty beside him, who just watches Weston's family from the side, an unreadable expression in his face. Dallon wonders what the older man is thinking about. He's been quiet since he arrived at their apartment, telling Dallon that he wants to see them off.

"Matty? What's wrong?" Dallon asked, gauging the curly haired man's expression. Matty has always been good at concealing how he feels. But Dallon isn't blind when this man who's treated him as a brother for years hides those feelings.

Matty knows that fact as well. So, he sighs. Turning to Dallon with a stern expression.

"Are you sure about this, Dallon? I'm not going to stop you if being with  _Weston_ makes you happy." Matty says with a subtle note of disdain when he mentions his older brother. "What if he just leaves you and your brothers again?"

_'That's another_ _ **what if**_ _to add.'_ Dallon thought, but just huffs a smile at that. Matty is protective as always.

"He won't. I promise you, he won't. I want to give him a chance, Matty. He's my brother, no matter what." Dallon says.

The older british man just nods, his eyes turning to Weston with a suspicious gaze. In the end, Matty just grumbles, running a hand through his curly locks in frustration.

"You know I'll kick his arse if he leaves you again, right?"

"Yes, I know."

"Good."

They stay silent, as they both watch Weston's family getting ready. Weston is placing their own bags in the trunk of his car, while Nikki, her mother and Brendon are chatting inside the car while they're waiting.

"You know you're still a brother to me, right?" Dallon says out of the blue, with Matty turning to him incredulously. "Even if Weston's back, you're still a brother to me, Matty. After everything you've done for me, how can I ever forget that?"

Matty just stares at him, then chuckles. Turning his head away like he always does when he's embarrassed. "You're such a sap."

"I'm proud to have you as my brother." Dallon continues, watching the other man's reaction despite Matty's best  efforts to hide his blush. "And I'm sure your brother Louis would be too."

The older man slowly turns to him, a genuine smile in his lips. He leans closer to Dallon and reaches to ruffle on his hair, despite Dallon being taller than the two.

"Take care, okay?"

"I'll be fine. We'll only be gone for two weeks " Dallon said as he lift his gaze towards the car, his eyes lingering on the younger man joining him in his trip. "And besides, Brendon's with me, so I'll be just fine."

"You should ask him out. You have my blessing." Matty suggested with a cheeky smile that made Dallon blush furiously.

"I-It's not like that!"

"Well, hey. If you  _do_ decide to make it like  _that_ _,_  then I fully support you two idiots who blindly like each other." Matty teases with his arms raised in defense.

Dallon rolls his eyes at his teasing, and the other man just laughs at him for it.

They both heard the sound of the car's engine getting ready. Weston's voice calls for Dallon to get inside the car.

There were no words  _goodbyes_  for the two men, who both just hugged each other as if it's their own language.

"See you soon, love." Matty says with his usual endearment, nudging him towards the car. Dallon waves at him and trudged forward, going to the car that awaits him.

He was halfway there when he remembered something that made him stop his tracks and turned back to Matty.

"You never told  _him_ _,_ didn't you?"

Matty seems to know what he meant, when he shooked his head in confirmation, a melancholic smile gracing his thin lips. "There's nothing for me to tell."

"But  _he_ \--You should tell him, you know. You should tell him. He deserves to know." Dallon tries, knowing about the older man's feelings that he held for his friend for so long.

But it seems, Matty has made his choice when he shook his head again. The smile still as bittersweet.

"I'll think about it."

Dallon just stares at him, hopeful and sad at the same time for Matty.

"Don't worry about me, you git." Matty says with a rather forced smile, as he pokes him in the forehead. "Go on! Your ride is waiting!"

"Right."

With one last wave to the curly haired man, he enters the car and sits himself beside Brendon. The younger man tilts his head, staring at him.

"What's wrong? What did Matty say?"

The engine of the car begins, as Weston tells them to put their seat belts on. Dallon doesn't really know how to respond Brendon with so many things going through his mind about Matty.

"I was wondering." Brendon prompts, making his voice close to a whisper that only he can hear, as his voice is almost drowned by the sound of Nikki talking to her father. "Is there something between Matty and Dan?"

Even Brendon noticed, and all that Dallon could do is smile sadly at him. "There should be. But there's nothing between them."

"I was right." Brendon says, rather to himself. He then turns back to Dallon with a questioning gaze. "Dan said he doesn't know anything about love. And then at that time in the café, I saw how Matty was looking at him. I just thought there was something odd about it."

"Dan's something of an ace. Aromantic/Asexual, if you're familiar with the term." Dallon explains, his head gazing at the car window beside him. "Matty knew even with his feelings, so he hasn't told Dan."

"They should try."

Dallon then smiles at Brendon. "I think so too. But as sad as it sounds, Matty has this  _thing_ where he believes that there are fights that can only be won when we learn that it's time to quit. And believe me, Matty is never a quitter."

Dallon shrugs, leaning his head on the car's cushion. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't have weaknesses."

Brendon just nods at him, then stopped asking questions. The younger man seems deep in thought about the answer, and Dallon had to stifle a chuckle at the serious expression.

_"There are fights that can only be won when we learn that it's time to quit."_

Dallon knows those words would be important to him later on. But Matty might just kick his ass for that if he let's that happen without a fight, though.

He hopes Matty would try.

And so he'll fight for whatever he has with what little limit he has left.

****

Dallon has fallen asleep, leaning his head on the car's window. Brendon thinks he deserves the rest. He saw the bags under Dallon's eyes, in which he assumes the older man hasn't been sleeping well.

It seems Nikki and her mother have fallen asleep as well in the passenger seat. The only sound the surrounds the car is the low hum of music from the radio, and car's engine as Weston drives them to their destination.

"Brendon, was it?"

Weston acknowledges him, looking at Brendon from the rear view mirror. Brendon shift in his seat, suddenly feeling that this might be the  _talk_ he's been expecting from Dallon's older brother.

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Please, call me Weston. A friend of Dallon is considered a friend of mine." The older man says kindly, which eases his nerves a bit. "So, how did you meet my brother?"

He contemplates on whether he should lie to Dallon's brother. But it probably be not a good thing for him if he did. He's making an impression, after all. Weston needs to know he can be trusted.

"It started when I ran away from my wedding."

Brendon tells him all the details. And surprisingly, he feels a lot better telling the truth than think of lies. Weston just listens to him without question.

"Okay, so..." Weston begins, once Brendon finished his story. "That's quite a lot to process in one day."

"I-I know. Sorry."

"Haven't you thought of returning home?"

Brendon shook his head, turning a glance at Dallon's sleeping figure beside him. "I know I have to, one day. It's just that my Dad... I don't know if I could see him again after what he did."

The older man hums in thought at his words, becoming silent for a bit before he said: "Talking to them would help."

"I was afraid of meeting my brothers. I didn't think Dallon would forgive me after all I did." Weston admits, his eyes darting towards the rear view mirror, gazing softly at his younger brother's form. "But he did. He did and that just lifts off something heavy in my chest."

"You should try talking to your father." Weston suggested. "Whether the outcome would be good or bad, you should see if what you have with him is worth fixing. Whatever your father has done must have a reason. Wouldn't you want to know that?"

Of course he wants to. He wants to know why that ridiculous wedding even started. He's not sure when he's going to have that chance, but when does, he's going to give his Dad a piece of his mind.

"I'll try." He says softly. He still feels a bit hesitant about it, but he knows that it has to happen sooner or later.

"Good. That's good."

And then the silence resumes, as Weston focuses on driving towards their destination.

Brendon could feel his eyes starting to droop. It's been a long journey, and perhaps some rest isn't so bad.

But one thought made Brendon awake. The only chance he'll probably get to have this discussion with Dallon's eldest brother is this one right here. Not exactly the right place for it, but after taking a deep breath, he goes for it.

"I like your brother."

The words itself sound foreign to his mouth. Not because he's uncomfortable with it, but rather, Brendon is usually more  _descriptive_ when it comes to his fondness for Dallon. Just a simple  _like_ barely scratches the surface.

Weston--to which he was not surprised in seeing the blinding grin from his lips, just chuckles at his words.

"I'm pretty sure my wife just gossiped about that last month." Weston says with amusement, but his expression then shifts to a solemn tone. "After your story, I want you to understand Brendon that Dallon's just a simple guy. Our family isn't as influential or wealthy as yours."

Weston pauses for a moment, then clears his throat before he continues. "You need to know that we only have  _enough,_ that's why I need to understand. Tell me--what exactly does my brother have that your life hasn't?"

Brendon looks down at the hands on his lap, smiling. There's so many ways for him to answer that question, but he says an answer that would also be  _enough_ _._ With a shrug, he says _:_ "Dallon."

"My life doesn't have  _him_ in it." He says, turning his gaze fondly as the brunette's slumped form beside him, sleeping soundly.

"In my life, all I ever wanted was just easy to get when I asked. I could buy  _this_ _,_ I could buy  _that_ _,_ and I wouldn't even have to get my hands dirty to achieve it." Brendon admits guiltily, but Weston's silence just prompts him to continue.

"But Dallon is like, something I need to work hard for, in order for me to have. I need to work hard to earn his trust, his friendship, his kindness. In order for that to happen, I'm going to trip, fall, and get hurt. I'm going to walk through his darkest fears before I could get to him, but I just know that after everything, he's just--"

"Worth it." Brendon ends it with a final note. "Having your brother into my life is one privilege that can't be compared to the worth of wealth I had in my life."

Weston seems to process his words, and it gave him a moment to think about what he said. He's pretty sure he would never have said those word if he was still his old self: Immature, ignorant and reckless.

He only hopes Dallon is proud of him.

"Are you sure you're just 18?" Weston says with a smile, the older man chuckling in disbelief by what he heard. "Well, I'm just glad you know what you're getting yourself into. Not like when I was your age."

Weston never specified what happened, but Brendon didn't need to know. Despite having a beautiful wife and child, he knew the older man still has regrets of what he should have done for his family.

"But you're still young, Brendon. Do what you want to do. Continue studying, or cherish your parents while they're still there. Don't be like me." The older man said, his voice stern as he continues. "Dallon was right, you know? We always had an argument about this even when we were younger."

"He said there's a right time for everything. But I didn't listen. I was too impatient, out of fear that I'll lose my wife. I was immature to think she wasn't going to wait for me and find someone else." Weston admits.

"If you really think Dallon is worth it, then he's worth waiting for, if you think he isn't ready, right?" Weston asked him, and Brendon is startled at the question.

"Y-Yes, of course."

"But that brother of mine, though. He has this unhealthy habit of pushing away the people who care for him because he thinks he doesn't deserve it."

"Well... that's true. He doesn't want to involve other people in his problems." Brendon adds with a huff.

"Exactly. He's going to convince you all the reasons on why you should let him go, and all I ask of you Brendon is that if he does so, don't let him. If he's worth it as you say he is, don't let him go, okay? Convince my brother that he deserves what ever happiness comes to him, okay?"

It sounds more like a plea than a request. This feels like the only thing Weston could do for his younger brother, and so he said all of these words to Brendon. How could he say  _no_ to that?

"I will."

The answer seems to be enough. Perhaps more than enough. The drive continues, and the silence surrounds them again. But probably for the better, because there's no more to add than the words they just exchanged.

That's when Brendon closes his eyes, letting out a deep breath as he lets himself be taken by sleep. Intently listening to the soft, gentle snores of the brunette beside him.


End file.
